Together Or Not At All
by RogueHunter06
Summary: Alistair finds something rather unexpected when he leads the recruits into the Wilds before the battle at Ostagar - someone who will change his fate in ways he wasn't expecting. *Sort of a girl falls into Thedas story, with a bit of twist, she's not from our world but rather a fantasy world of mine.* Will go between a couple of POVs, and be a bit AU, but still follow major events.
1. Who Are You?

_AN: This is my first fanfiction. Reviews are greatly appreciated, unless they are flames, then they will be ignored. If all goes well, I have an idea for a sequel involving the events of DA2. I will be switching between at least two POVs, possibly more, haven't decided yet. The first POV is Alistair's. _

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns Alistair (sadly) and all events involving Dragon Age and Thedas. I own Ayla and all events involving her world and origins._

Together or Not at All

Chapter One: Who Are You?

There were a lot of things that Alistair had expected to find when he led the three recruits into the Korcari Wilds. He'd expected darkspawn, of course; part of the whole reason they'd gone into the wilds was to collect three vials of darkspawn blood for the Joining. He'd also expected wolves and the like, maybe some soldiers from patrols that had been sent out, possibly even to run across a Chasind warrior or two. They had, in fact, run into a soldier already, that they'd bandaged up and sent back to the camp at Ostagar.

But as they came over the crest of a large hill, he saw something he had not expected at all: a lone woman, fighting darkspawn. He could tell almost right away that she wasn't Chasind; nor did she seem to be a soldier of the King's army. She wore articles of clothing different from what he'd expect of either.

She had flame red hair, hanging in a long braid down her back; she wore a sky blue tunic emblazoned with a white crest he couldn't make out from this distance; and she wore a black, hooded cloak and black leggings, though of what material, he couldn't tell from here. She fought with dual weapons, much as Duncan liked to do, except rather than a longsword in one hand and a dagger in the other, she wielded matching curved swords. She fought well; as he watched, she blocked the incoming swipe from a darkspawn to her left with the sword in her left hand, and then pivoted in a circle to stab it in the back with her right hand sword. As it fell, she sliced its head off with a clean swipe from her left hand.

Alistair could see more darkspawn coming from behind her. "Come on, let's help her," he urged to the three recruits, and they rushed forward to engage the darkspawn that were starting to surround her.

She saw them coming, but hearing the darkspawn behind her, she turned to engage them instead. Alistair came up next to her and shield-bashed a genlock to the ground then ran it through with his sword. Aedan, the recruit from Highever, came up on her other side, and sliced off another genlock's head with his greatsword. An arrow thudded into the eye of a Hurlock, coming from the bow the cutpurse, Daveth, wielded, at the same time as Jory, the knight from Redcliffe, struck at the Hurlock with his greatsword. The woman was engaging another genlock with her swords. Between the five of them, they soon had the band of darkspawn defeated without much trouble. Alistair noted with relief that he couldn't sense any more immediately nearby.

He wiped his sword off on the grass, then sheathed it before turning to the woman, who was now a little behind him. She fell into a defensive posture, swords up, facing him. Alistair noted that Aedan and Jory had put away their swords, although Daveth, further back, had his bow trained on the woman, waiting for Alistair to signal him. Alistair held up his hands, palms out, in a peaceful gesture, though he kept his shield strapped to his arm, just in case.

"Whoa, hold on. I've no wish to harm you, or fight you, if I can help it. My name's Alistair. What brings you to the Wilds?"

This close, since there was only about ten feet separating them now, he could see that she was downright beautiful. She had blue-green eyes in a delicate face, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and full pink lips that he found far more tempting than he should have. The white symbol on her tunic was a pair of white wings, crossed by two swords, not a crest he could ever recall seeing. The black cloak and leggings appeared to be made of fur, though what type he wasn't sure. He couldn't help but notice she had some rather nice curves, as well. Ordinarily, he'd be tripping over his tongue in the presence of such a beautiful woman, but because he was so curious about what she was doing here, he found himself surprisingly able to function.

She looked him over, assessing him with those eyes; apparently deciding he was no immediate threat, she dropped her stance, wiping off her swords as well, before sheathing them at either hip. "My name is Ayla, and I am not sure where I am," she admitted. "I . . . was in the woods near my home, and blacked out. When I came to, I was here, and was attacked by those creatures just before you came. Where did you say we are, exactly?"

_What? _ Alistair thought. _She must be joking, right? She blacked out in the woods and woke up in the middle of the Wilds? How is that even possible?_ He looked at her, thoughtfully, but her gaze seemed open and sincere. He couldn't see any sign that she didn't believe what she said.

"I realize how that must sound," she said, as though guessing what he was thinking, "but I assure you, that's all I can remember. I do not have the slightest idea where I am or how I got here in the first place."

"Well, you're in the Korcari Wilds, a swamp just outside of the ruins at Ostagar. Currently, the Wilds are overrun by darkspawn, as you can see." He nodded at the corpses surrounding them. "We're gearing up to fight the darkspawn horde at Ostagar. Most of the King's army is here, as well as the Grey Wardens. I'm a Grey Warden, myself; these three are recruits. That's Daveth with the bow, the bald one's Jory, and the one with the shiny armor is Aedan. We're fulfilling a couple of tasks in the Wilds before they can be allowed to join us."

Though she tried her best to mask it, he could see confusion in her eyes, though what about, he wasn't sure. Was she unfamiliar with the names of Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds, or had some of the rest of what he had said been confusing, as well?

"These creatures are . . . darkspawn, you say?" She nudged at the nearest corpse with the toe of her leather boot.

Alistair nodded. "Yes, you've never seen one?" It wasn't all that unusual for a person to have never seen a darkspawn. Usually they stayed in the Deep Roads, where the dwarves were, except for during times of Blight. In fact, he didn't think any of the recruits with him had seen one until they'd entered the Wilds.

"No, I can't say that I have," she answered quietly. "Nor have I heard of the places you speak of, I'm afraid. Could you tell me what . . . country we are in?"

Alistair could feel his eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline. She should at least have heard of the Wilds, if not Ostagar. Could she truly be so far from home she didn't even know what country they were in? Yet, she still seemed sincere enough, if entirely uncertain of how he would react. "We're . . in Ferelden."

He watched her for any sign of recognition at that name, at least, but he couldn't see any. He was getting a little disturbed now; there was no way she couldn't have heard of Ferelden, everyone in Thedas knew at least a little about it. Had she maybe lost her memory?

"I must be quite far from home," she said at last, "and I'm afraid I have no idea how to get back."

Alistair opened his mouth to ask all the questions that were burning holes in his brain, when Aedan spoke up. "Sorry to interrupt, Alistair, but we shouldn't we get moving? We don't have a lot of time before dark to find those treaties, and there's going to be another battle soon, isn't there?"

Alistair looked at the position of the sun, and cursed inwardly. Aedan was right; there weren't many daylight hours left, and they still had to find the old Warden outpost that held the treaties Duncan had sent them for as well. Duncan had told him to be back by dark, if at all possible, as the horde was readying itself for another attack.

He looked back at Ayla. He couldn't very well leave her here, alone in the Wilds, surrounded by darkspawn. Especially when she had no idea where she was or how to get back to where she belonged. No, he'd had have to bring her along, he decided. "Come with us. We have one more task to take care of in the Wilds, then we'll be heading back to the army camp. Someone there might know how you can get back home. I'd escort you back right now, but I'm afraid we don't have the time."

She nodded. "Yes, thank you, I think that would be best. I doubt I have much choice, after all. I don't think these darkspawn will be willing to give me directions."

Alistair laughed in spite of himself. There were few things he appreciated more than a sense of humor. "No, they're not a very talkative or helpful bunch. Well, shall we be going then?"

"Lead the way."

Alistair slung his shield onto his back, and continued on in the direction the darkspawn had come from, motioning for the others to follow. According to the old map Duncan had given him, the abandoned outpost should be somewhere in the northeast. The recruits all fell into step behind them, though Ayla walked alongside him.

"So, if you don't mind my asking," she began, "what did you say you had brought your recruits into these Wilds for, again?"

"Well, they're not exactly my recruits. I'm the most junior member of the Wardens, at the moment, and my commander, Duncan, asked that I accompany them on these tasks. It's basically a final test, as it were, until they are allowed to join. The first task we'd already completed before we ran into you." _Thank the Maker,_ Alistair thought to himself. He wouldn't have relished having to explain to her why they were collecting the black ichor that passed for darkspawn blood into the vials. Because of that, he didn't bother elaborating. "The second task is to find an old Warden outpost we had to abandon many years ago. Duncan said there should be some treaties in a chest there, that will hopefully allow us to gather more aid to fight the Blight."

"And you think that those treaties will still be there?"

"Duncan said that they were in an enchanted chest, so they should be preserved, even if the rest of the outpost is not. I should tell you, also, in case you don't know, that if we run into more of the darkspawn, you should take care with their blood. If any gets into your own wounds, you would become tainted."

She looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Tainted? And what would that do to me?"

So she didn't know. Alistair had thought she wouldn't. There were so many things she should know, that were common knowledge, which she seemed to have no idea about. He had so many questions he would have to ask her when they got back to the camp. "It would make you ill; take over your body, until there was nothing left. From what I've heard, you may even change into a darkspawn yourself. There is no cure for it." Well, except becoming a Grey Warden, but he wasn't about to tell her that unless he had to. It would only complicate matters, anyway.

"That is . . . disturbing to hear. Thank you for telling me."

He nodded. "You're welcome."

They walked in silence after that. He imagined she was thinking over everything he'd told her so far, and he was concentrating on making sure they went in the right direction, as well as considering whom she could possibly be, and where she was really from.

As they made their way through the Wilds, they ran into several more roaming bands of darkspawn, which Alistair was always able to sense before they got too close. This gave them enough time to prepare, and they were effective enough not to sustain any serious injuries. Alistair handed out a few health poultices for the more minor wounds that they received. Finally, they spotted the ruins of a tower in the distance.

"That must be it there," Alistair said to the others. "Let's hope the treaties are still in there, as Duncan said."

They made their way through the ruined archway of the tower. "Let's split up and look around," Alistair told the recruits. "See if you can find a chest that might have what we're looking for."

They did as they were told; they all split up and began to search the tower. Ayla leaned against the tower wall, arms crossed, watching them. "Hey, I think I found it," Aedan called.

Alistair turned and walked over to the opposite side of the tower, the others following, to where Aedan was crouched before a chest that looked as if the top had been crushed. "It's empty," he said as they all reached him.

Before Alistair could say anything, he heard the sound of swords leaving their sheath at the same moment as a voice drawled, "Well, well, what have we here?"

Alistair whipped around. Ayla was behind him, turned towards the woman coming down the ramp of the tower, her swords drawn. The woman who had spoken was sauntering towards them. She was beautiful, he supposed, with dark hair pulled back in a bun, creamy skin, and a lithe, well-curved body. She seemed to know it, as well, for she wore barely anything to cover herself: a purple shirt, of sorts, which barely covered her breasts, and left everything else on her torso free, as well as a torn black leather skirt that showed flashes of legs. It was her golden eyes, cold, hard, and unyielding, which made her unattractive to him, as well as the fact he could feel her magic coming off her in waves, via his templar training.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones are long since cleaned? Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" The woman continued, unconcerned with Ayla's swords or the fact that five people were staring at her. Alistair's hand was on the hilt of his sword, himself.

"What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?" She prompted when no one answered her.

"We are neither," Alistair answered her, since it didn't seem like she'd go away until he did. He didn't want to push a mage if he didn't have to. "The Grey Wardens once owned this tower."

"'Tis a tower no longer. The Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse. I have watched your progress for some time. Where do they go, I wondered, why are they here?" She had stopped directly in front of Aedan, for some reason, and seemed to be looking to him for her answer.

"Don't answer her. She looks Chasind, and that means others maybe be nearby," Alistair whispered to Aedan, sincerely hoping he was wrong about that fact.

The woman glared at him. "Are you afraid barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Yes, swooping is bad."

"She's a Witch of the Wilds, she is!" Daveth exclaimed, his voice cracking with fright.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Witch of the Wilds? Such idle fancies. Have you no minds of your own?" Suddenly, the woman turned her attention to Ayla, who had sheathed her swords, apparently deciding an attack wasn't imminent. Or maybe it was because he had yet to draw his sword, Alistair mused. "You there, women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

Ayla blinked, glancing at Alistair briefly before answering, "I am Ayla, a pleasure to meet you."

"Now that is a proper civil greeting, even here in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan." She turned her attention back to Aedan. "Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?"

Alistair snapped to attention, anger burning in him. "Here no longer? You stole them didn't you? You're some kind of . . . sneaky . . . witch thief!"

Morrigan sniffed. "How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily, it seems. Those documents are Grey property, and I suggest you return them," Alistair snapped. His hand had tightened on his sword hilt, though he was doing his best not to draw it. He still couldn't be sure that there weren't other people lying in wait for some signal from Morrigan.

"I will not, for twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer, if you wish; I am not threatened." Morrigan was glaring at him as much as he was at her, and he could easily believe she didn't feel frightened in the least of them.

"If you didn't remove them, do you know who did?" Aedan asked, calm and straightforward. Alistair glanced at him, surprised. Wasn't he worried about this strange woman who'd popped out of nowhere?

Morrigan looked back at him, as if equally surprised, and gave him a calculating once-over. "Twas my mother, in fact."

"Would you mind taking us to her, so we could get them back?" Aedan prompted.

Morrigan smiled suddenly. "There is a sensible request. I like you."

"I'd be careful," Alistair warned him. "First it's - 'I like you' - but then it's - zap! frog time." He heard Ayla laugh next to him, and couldn't help grinning in response.

"She'll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch," Daveth muttered from behind Alistair. He'd been going on about "witches of the wilds" since before they'd even entered the Wilds.

"If the pot's warmer than this forest, it'd be a nice change," Jory responded. That was probably the first brave thing he'd said since they'd started, Alistair mused.

"Follow me then, if it pleases you," Morrigan said, ignoring the other two recruits as she turned and began to walk away. Aedan followed her without hesitation, so Alistair had no choice but to follow him.

Ayla fell in next to him as they followed Morrigan through the Wilds, and Daveth and Jory picked up the rear. "You don't trust her, do you?" Ayla murmured to Alistair. They were a little ways behind Aedan and Morrigan by now.

Alistair shook his head. "No, she's a mage, and I have a feeling her appearance was a little too convenient."

"How do you know she's a mage?" Ayla asked.

"I have some training as a templar, so I can sense a mage's abilities," Alistair answered. He looked over at her, and seeing the question in her eyes, he answered it before she even asked. "Templars are an order of knights who are trained to . . . neutralize a mage's ability, in case they become a danger to themselves or others. They are put in charge of guarding the mages in the Circle, to keep everyone protected. I never actually became one, though, before I joined the Wardens."

She nodded slowly, as though considering what he said. He had the feeling she wanted to ask more, but instead she said, "I think you're right about her timing being a little too convenient. She's after something, but I do not think you have a choice in the matter, if you need those treaties, anyway."

Alistair sighed. "You're right. If there's a chance I can get the treaties back, Duncan wouldn't be happy with me for passing it up. I just hope that whatever she wants, it's not more than we can afford to give."

"I will help you with whatever you need," she promised. "It is the least I can do."

Alistair flushed. "Thank you, but I really . . . haven't done all that much."

"You've done more than enough," she answered softly.

Just then, Aedan whispered back to them, "Looks like we're here."

As they emerged from a stand of trees, they spotted a small, ramshackle hut sitting in the middle of the swamp. It looked hardly big enough for two people, yet Morrigan led them right to it. An old woman, wizened and frail looking, with grey hair and dressed in simple peasant's clothing, was waiting in front of the hut. Her appearance was deceptive, though. Alistair could sense a far greater amount of magic coming off her than what Morrigan possessed; more than he had ever sensed before, even from the First Enchanter that he'd met briefly. He could only hope she didn't want to use it on them, because he doubted his limited templar abilities would be of any use on her.

"Greetings, Mother," Morrigan called out as they approached, "I bring before you five Grey Wardens who –"

"I see them, girl," the old woman interrupted. "Mmm. Much as I expected. Except for you." She was looking at Ayla, Alistair noted with a jerk of surprise. "You do not belong here, as the others do, do you?"

Alistair looked at Ayla. She looked as shocked as he was, but she recovered quickly. "I am not sure what you mean."

"Are you not?" the old woman smiled. "You are not from here, and were brought against your will, if I am not mistaken."

"Do you know why I was brought here, or how I can get back?" Ayla demanded suddenly, her fists clenching.

"I cannot be certain," the old woman replied. "But it is likely you were brought because you were needed here, more than you were needed there. Where you appeared and who you first met, will have much to do with why you were brought, I think. As for how you can get back, perhaps when you have completed what you were brought here to do, the answer will show itself."

"But you don't know for sure, do you?" Ayla asked.

The old woman shook her head. "I am afraid I do not, but there is only one way to find out, is there not?" Before Ayla could answer, she turned her attention back to Alistair and the recruits. "The four of you, however, I was expecting."

Alistair snorted, though he was more disturbed than he cared to admit about the old woman's insight into Ayla. "Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?"

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide; either way one's a fool!" The old woman cackled, looking carefully at each of them in turn.

"She's a witch, I tell you, we shouldn't be talking to her," Daveth hissed as her eyes passed over him.

"Quiet Daveth, if she's really a witch, do you want to make her mad?" Jory hissed back.

"There is a smart lad. Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will. And what of you?" She turned to Aedan this time, who was still standing a little in front of the others. "Do you possess a different viewpoint? What do you believe?"

Aedan shrugged. "I'm not sure what to believe."

"A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies. Be always aware or is it oblivious? I can never remember. So much about you is uncertain and yet I believe. Do I? Why it seems I do!" The old woman appeared to be ranting to herself at this point, having gone from relatively straightforward answers with Ayla to insane riddles and ramblings.

"So this is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Alistair was amused in spite of himself. For all the old woman's impressive power, it seemed her mind was too far gone for it to be of any use.

"Witch of the Wilds, eh?" The old woman laughed. "Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it. Oh, how she dances under the light of the moon!"

"They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother." For the first time, Morrigan sounded exasperated instead of coolly amused and in control.

"True, they came for their treaties, yes?" The old woman turned and took some scrolls out of a bag hanging on the wall of the hut behind her. She handed them to Aedan, who was nearest to her. Alistair tried to recall when Morrigan or themselves had mentioned the treaties to her. "And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these."

"You –" Alistair began, ready to berate her for stealing them until the rest of what she'd said penetrated his brain. "Oh. You protected them?" He couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. Why would a Witch of the Wilds bother protecting Grey Warden treaties?

"And why not?" The old woman said, waving her hand dismissively. "Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this blight's threat is greater than they realize!"

"Thank you for returning them," Aedan said, sweeping her such a courtly bow that Alistair wondered, not for the first time, exactly who he was.

"Such manners! Always in the last place you look, like stockings!" She laughed again at the looks on their faces. "Oh do not mind me; you have what you came for!"

"Time for you to go then," Morrigan said, sounding pleased.

"Do not be ridiculous, girl, these are your guests." The old woman glanced at Morrigan, significantly.

Morrigan heaved a sigh. "Oh very well, I will show you out of the woods. Follow me."

She turned away from the hut and began walking, in a different direction than the way they'd come. Once again, Aedan followed her without hesitating, and Alistair wondered why in the Maker's name he thought her so trustworthy. But, the sun was getting awfully close to the horizon, and if she could show them a faster way out, it would be for the better. With a sigh, he followed Aedan, and again, the others followed him.

Ayla fell in beside him again, but she was quiet. He assumed she was thinking about all the old woman had told her, and he didn't interrupt her. No, he'd wait until they got back to camp. He couldn't wait to ask her all the questions that were churning around in his brain. He'd have a good long chat with her as soon as he had the chance, he decided. For now, he'd just have to get back to camp and get these recruits through the Joining.


	2. Ostagar and the Grey Wardens

_Author's Note: I apologize for how long it took to get this chapter up. I had originally meant to do weekly updates, but work got in the way the last few weeks. Thanks to all those who have favorited and followed so far, it means a lot to know you find the story interesting! I promise to update as often as I can, this story definitely wants to come out. This chapter is a bit longer than I meant it to be, I had intended to cover the Tower of Ishal as well, but Ayla had a lot to stay, so we'll get to the Tower next chapter. As you might have noticed, I will also be putting in some game dialogue here and there, and I will try to keep that as close to the game as I can remember. However, there will obviously be a fair bit of original dialogue as well, since a new character throws in a new spin on things. I will be mostly following the game as it plays out, at least, the major events. Please review and let me know what you think, constructive criticism is welcome! Particularly if you think anyone's OOC. Thank you and enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Anything related to the actual events or characters of Dragon Age is owned by Bioware._

Chapter Two: Ostagar and the Grey Wardens

As they approached the ruins, Ayla couldn't help but be impressed. She'd never seen such a big structure; even Fallor Castle was nowhere near as big as this Ostagar place had once been. Though most of what was left was only towers or walls, she could tell that the grey stone walls had once been massive and overwhelming. Alistair led them to a large, wooden gate with two doors that spanned an open archway. It was flanked by two soldiers, who nodded when they saw Alistair, took down the heavy wooden plank, and pushed open the doors. They cast curious glances at her as she followed the others in, but said nothing.

She'd made up her mind on the way back through the Wilds, decided what it was she had to do, and was going to do. The old woman they'd met in the Wilds, Morrigan's mother, had clinched it for her. She knew a messenger of the Goddess when she saw one; the old woman spoke in riddles, just like Cranin did. But they were riddles mixed with truth and advice. Not to mention the fact that the old woman had recognized right away, without being told, that Ayla was not of this world. So what the old woman had said must be true: she was here because she was needed here, more than she was needed at home.

She'd known that it must have been something like that. She'd been at Starwood Point when it happened. Only for a walk; she'd told her brother, Mardin, when she'd left that she'd only been going for a walk to get some fresh air. Fortunately, she'd taken her swords with her just to be on the safe side. Starwood Point was known to be a place where portals to other worlds could open, or people from other worlds could arrive in Fallor. But portals didn't just open by accident. Only the Goddess or one of her chosen messengers could have done something like that.

It had seemed like an accident, though. She'd been sitting on the ground in the clearing, facing the Starwood tree, with its blinding, silvery light, just relaxing and breathing in the sound and smell of the woods. Then, the ground had started to shake, at the same time as something had started to appear in front of the tree. A golden light, getting bigger and bigger until it had taken the shape of a door. A fierce wind had kicked up, pushing her towards the light. She'd gotten to her feet, thinking she could get away, but the wind had been so powerful, it had lifted her off her feet and essentially thrown her in the door.

Once in the door of light, she hadn't been able to see anything, not clearly, only sense and feel. It had been like being pushed and pulled at the same time, turned and twisted around in a thousand directions, until she had no concept of which way was up, down, forward or backward. Overwhelming pressure had pushed down on her, until finally, she'd blacked out.

When she came to, she'd been lying on the ground, in what she now knew was the Korcari Wilds. Considering what she could recall of what happened, she'd felt surprisingly good, other than a mild headache. She'd gotten to her feet; unsure of what to do next, since the scenery around her was like nothing she'd ever seen before, when she heard the noise. She'd looked toward it, and seen those monstrous creatures, those darkspawn, as Alistair had called them, coming toward her.

They, too, were like nothing she'd ever seen before. She'd heard stories of demons and monsters in her world, and even come across a few monsters, but largely, Fallor was at peace, and all the demons were gone. She had been wholly unprepared for the sight of these horrible, humanoid creatures, black, bald, and leering. All the ones she'd seen at that point had been short, a good foot or so shorter than herself, stocky, with pointed teeth in dark-skinned faces, wearing bits and pieces of armor, and carrying weapons. Both weapons and armor had looked _wrong_, as though just by being in contact with those things, they had become dark and twisted as well.

For the first time she could remember in her life, Ayla had actually felt true fear on the battlefield. Her mind had been seized with panic at their approach, and she'd felt like she couldn't move. Fortunately, her ruthlessly trained body had reacted, even when her mind had felt unable to. Her swords had come out almost automatically, and she'd moved into the dance of fighting long before her brain had cleared. When the first one had gone down, and she'd realized they died the same as anything else, except for the black ichor leaking out where red blood should have been, her brain had cleared, and the fear had disappeared.

Then Alistair and his friends, or recruits, had appeared, and through the conversation, she'd had it truly brought home to her that she was no longer in Fallor. Almost everything Alistair had mentioned to her, place names and names of warrior orders, had been utterly unfamiliar. There were many legends and stories about such things happening; she just never dreamed it would have happened to her. And though the door opening had _seemed _like a random accident, she knew such a powerful occurrence couldn't possibly be. Morrigan's mother had confirmed it for her, she was needed here, and by doing whatever she was brought here to do, she would be able to go home again. Ayla remembered that she had also said who she met and where she arrived would have a lot to do with what she'd been brought here for.

Ayla was inclined to agree. It couldn't be a coincidence that she'd met these Grey Wardens, who were charged to fight those darkspawn, minutes after her arrival. It also couldn't be a coincidence that her arrival had occurred on the eve of what sounded like a very important battle for them. So she'd made up her mind. She was meant to help the Grey Wardens fight the darkspawn; that was the mission her Goddess had brought her here to achieve, that was her destiny. She didn't know why it was just hers; why hadn't someone else been brought through with her? Even just her brother would have been a huge help. But maybe only one person had been able to cross over, or she'd just happened to be in the right place at the right time. No matter, though, she'd do whatever she had to in order to accomplish her destiny and get home.

The biggest problem right now, she mused as she followed Alistair through the camp, was convincing Alistair's commander that she needed to stay with them and help them fight. She didn't think she could tell any of them the truth about where she was from; not yet, anyway. That was why she'd been careful to say as little as possible to Alistair. She didn't know if this was a world that would readily accept the existence of others, or the possibility that someone from another world could appear in theirs. So she'd keep her mouth shut until she knew they could accept what she had to say, about that and about her own abilities.

She had no idea if they'd be willing to let her stay with them and fight alongside them. On the one hand, it sounded like they could use all the help they could get, if they were bringing in three raw recruits so close to a major battle. On the other hand, would they be able to trust her, when there was so little she could tell them? She knew Alistair already had his suspicions, she'd seen it in his eyes. Of course, he had every right to be suspicious. Her story was full of holes, and she could tell she was missing a lot of basic knowledge someone from his world would have.

But even with that, he'd trusted her so far. He'd been willing to bring her along with them, even as they finished up their mission, and to trust her to fight alongside them. He'd brought her back into the middle of their camp. He'd done so much more for her than she would have expected anybody to do, considering the circumstances under which they'd met. She was hoping that he would help her convince Duncan that she needed to stay. After all, he'd seen her fight, too. He had to know that she'd be useful.

She glanced around the camp as they continued to make their way through it, observing all that she could, and trying to note down the similarities and differences. For the most part, the army camp was like any gathering of warriors before a big battle. There were groups of tents set up around various campfires, each belonging to a different band of warriors or troops. People bustled back and forth, fetching food, water, weapons, supplies, whatever was needed to fight the battle. In one spot, she even saw people praying as a woman in robes spoke about a Maker.

There was a group of mages, too, she noted, though they seemed to be cordoned off from all the others. There was magic and mages in her world, too. But something must be different here. In her world, the mages had their own order, and led themselves. From what Alistair had told her, here they had an order devoted to being able to _neutralize_ mages, in case they were a danger. She could see men in heavy silver plate armor, with red and gold skirting covering their legs, guarding the area where the mages were. They had to be Templars. She wondered what it was that made mages in this world so dangerous they had to be guarded all the time. She was afraid to ask, though, for fear she'd arouse more suspicion.

The only other immediate difference she saw was the elves. There were elves in Fallor, as well, but they all had silver hair. Some believed it was because the valley they lived in contained another tree like the one at Starwood Point, and after centuries of living by it, it had changed their appearance. Whatever the reason was, she'd never met an elf who didn't have silver hair. But the ones here had all shades of hair, just like humans. The other difference was that they all appeared to be servants, or maybe even slaves. They were all performing menial tasks, and wearing rough, homespun clothing, and none of them were carrying weapons. Additionally, none of them seemed to be in command of anything, not even themselves. These were all things that the proud, long-lived elves she was used to would never have agreed to. She decided that the differences she'd seen so far, she didn't like.

"We're here," Alistair announced suddenly, jerking her out of her observations. They'd arrived at a fire in front of another group of tents. An older man stood waiting by the fire. In spite of his years, he was still attractive, with a full beard and his dark hair clubbed into a queue at the back of his neck. His tanned skin and gold hoop earring gave him a somewhat piratical air. He wore an expensive-looking suit of light silver and gold plate, skirted at the bottom. A wicked-looking longsword and dagger were strapped to his back. He had to be Alistair's commander, Ayla thought. She could see it in his stance, in the air of command that surrounded him.

"So you return from the Wilds, have you been successful?" The commander's sharp-eyed gaze passed over all of them, then lingered on Ayla. "It appears you brought someone back with you."

Alistair cleared his throat. "Yes, we were successful. Duncan, this is Ayla. We came across her in the Wilds, fighting darkspawn. She didn't know how she came to be in the Wilds."

"Indeed?" Duncan's eyebrows raised, his gaze continuing to bore into Ayla. She resisted the urge to squirm. He'd definitely be tough to convince, she decided. "I'd like nothing better than to question her further about that, but we have little time at the moment. The Circle mages are preparing. With the . . . . items you've retrieved, we can begin the Joining immediately. After that, you and I can have a discussion." He nodded at Ayla.

She cleared her throat. It was now or never. "Excuse me, Commander Duncan, but I'd like to offer my services to the Grey Wardens. I would like to help you in your fight against these darkspawn. If that requires me to undertake this Joining of yours, I can do that as well."

Duncan looked both shocked and grim, and Alistair had a sudden coughing fit, as though something had gone down the wrong way. "I am not so sure that is wise, though I appreciate the sentiment and the offer."

"Ayla, wait." It was Alistair who spoke. She turned toward him, noticing, not for the first time, how handsome he was. His closely cropped, reddish-blonde hair gleamed in the firelight, with its odd upturn of spikes above his forehead. His square-jawed face was smooth except for a little stubble that she found oddly appealing, and his hazel eyes were dark with sudden concern. "You want to go home, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she replied, finding the question odd. "But I think, in order to do so, that I must do something here first. I believe that something is helping the Grey Wardens with this fight. Once I have, then I may be able to find the way home."

"Well, if you want to help fight the Blight, that's fine. But the Joining is kind of . . . permanent. If you want to go back home, it's probably best that you don't go through the Joining." His brow was furrowed, she noted, and he was carefully not looking her directly in the eyes.

What exactly did he mean by permanent? She'd realized that he must have some type of ability of his own. It hadn't escaped her notice in the Wilds that he'd picked up on the darkspawn long before ordinary human senses would have, even before her heightened hearing and eyesight had been able to. She'd also noticed that the other three hadn't appeared to have the same abilities, so it must be something that the Grey Wardens gained after going through this Joining.

Judging by his reluctance to have her participate, though, it didn't sound as though it was a simple test of ability or skill, like the Kin Ritual in Fallor, or the battle that tested one's worth to join the Order of Avallonne. In those cases, if you didn't succeed, you just didn't gain your animal kin, or become a warrior of the Order. This seemed to be a lot more serious. Well, he was the Grey Warden. If he was telling her it was best not to go through with it, she'd probably be better off listening.

She nodded. "All right, then I won't go through with the Joining. But I still believe I am meant to help the Grey Wardens fight, so I would like to remain and help you fight off this Blight of yours."

"That will be up to Duncan," Alistair turned back to Duncan as he said this.

"We will discuss it after the Joining." Duncan looked at Ayla. She sensed that he was sizing her up. "If you wish to join us, you will remain here, and wait for Alistair and I to return. I will take a moment with the recruits alone to explain a few things; then, Alistair, you will take them to the old temple, and we will begin."

Duncan motioned to Aedan and the others to follow him as he walked away from the fire. They followed him several yards away to a point that was out of earshot. If they hadn't been in a crowded camp, though, Ayla would still have been able to pick up the conversation. It didn't matter, though, she knew it had to be about the Joining, and it must have been something that the Wardens needed to keep secret. She wasn't going to pry into something that was none of her business, especially when she needed Duncan to trust her.

"Why do you want to help us?" Alistair asked her. "Do you honestly believe you can find your way home from helping us fight the Blight?"

Ayla hesitated. How much to tell him? But then, he'd been there when Morrigan's mother had spoken to her. "You heard what Morrigan's mother said, right? That I was brought here because I was needed here more than I was needed at home? And that maybe once I'd done what was needed doing here, I would find the answers I need to get home? I thought about it on the way back here, and I decided she was right. I do not believe it was a coincidence that I met you so soon after I arrived, and just before what appears to be a major battle in your Blight. So, I will help you and the other Grey Wardens in your battle, and by doing so, maybe I will find my answers."

"You're going to take advice from a crazy old witch?"

Ayla shrugged. "I do not believe she was just a crazy old witch. She knew far more about me than she should have, and it sounded like she had the answers I was looking for."

Alistair sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as though he were weary. "You know this will be dangerous, right? You'll be risking your life to fight a battle that isn't yours."

She smiled. "I am a warrior, after all. I have spent my entire life risking it on the battlefield. Besides, I know nothing about where I am, or how I could get to my home from here. If I start to aimlessly wander your country while it is in a state of battle, that would be equally dangerous. Best to help you finish your fight, then go looking when your country's at peace again."

"I suppose you have a point. All right, I'll make you a deal. You help us defeat the Blight, and when it's all over, I'll help you find your way home." He grinned at her, and she was surprised to feel her heart jump a little. Why did she find him so attractive? It wasn't like she wasn't used to being around attractive men, after all.

She found herself grinning back. "That sounds like a deal. A favour for a favour. Just as long as Duncan lets me stay, that is."

He held out his gauntleted hand, and she shook it to seal the deal. "Don't worry about Duncan. I'll talk him into it. Anyway, I'd best go help him with the Joining now. There's a food tent over there, if you're hungry. We'll be back as soon as we can."

She followed the direction he was pointing, and saw the tent open at the front, with a large kettle over the fire. A man was ladling what looked like stew into bowls for the soldiers lined up there. Realizing that she did feel hungry, she decided she'd go eat. She nodded to Alistair. "I will be waiting here, then."

He walked off in the direction that Duncan had gone with the recruits, and joining up with them, headed further away, towards a stone ramp that led up into another area of the ruins. She headed over to the food tent, and joined the line up to get something to eat.

It had been at least a good hour since Duncan and Alistair had left, and Ayla was getting restless. She'd eaten the stew, which had been surprisingly good, along with a hunk of bread and some cheese. Then, she'd simply sat by the fire, watching the camp. Part of her had wanted to leave and go exploring, but not knowing when exactly they would get back, she'd decided against it. She'd agreed to wait here, and if she wasn't here when they returned, that wouldn't help Duncan trust her any.

Finally, she picked up on footsteps approaching the fire she was sitting at. She turned her head to look. Duncan and Alistair were approaching, with Aedan. Alistair had Aedan's arm slung over his shoulders, and was helping him to walk. The young man, who Ayla suspected was close to her own age of 21 years, looked very pale. His short black hair was sweaty, and his eyes looked glazed. He looked ill, Ayla realized, like his body was fighting something off.

Alistair helped him into another one of the tents, this one was closed off, and most likely contained sleeping pallets. Duncan, meanwhile, approached the fire where she was waiting. "I see you are still here."

Ayla was burning with her own questions. Where were Jory and Daveth? Why did Aedan look so ill? What did this Joining entail exactly? But she knew now wasn't the time. So she simply nodded. "I am. I did say I wished to join you in your fight, after all."

Alistair came back out of the tent, and took a seat on one of the logs around the fire, as Duncan had. "He's resting," he said in answer to the look Duncan cast in his direction.

Duncan nodded, then turned his attention back to Ayla. "You say you wish to join us. First, I would like to hear a little bit more about whom exactly you are, and where you come from. I cannot allow just anyone to fight alongside the Grey Wardens."

Ayla had expected as much, and had decided how exactly she wanted to go about it. "My name is Ayla Trichlor, and I hail from a country called Fallor. I doubt that you have heard of it, for I have not heard of your Ferelden, either." This was all true, of course. She just wasn't mentioning that they probably hadn't heard of it because it was in a different world. "I am a warrior of the Order of Avallonne, an Order of warriors pledged to fight in the service of our King, either in war or to keep the peace of his lands. I am the Lieutenant of that Order."

She pulled back the left side of her pantherskin cloak, to show them the silver band wrapped around her upper arm. It bore the symbol of the spreading wings crossed by swords that symbolized her Order, the same symbol worn on her tunic. The silver band was worn by the Lieutenant of the Order, while the Captain wore the gold band. She had decided it was best to tell them her qualifications as a warrior, so to speak. It might make Duncan more likely to bring her along. She continued with the story she'd chosen to tell him.

"I had gone out for a walk in the woods near my home, just to get some fresh air. I took my swords with me, to be safe. While I was resting in a clearing, there was a bright flash of light, and I lost consciousness. When I awoke, I was in the place you call the Korcari Wilds. Before I could even decide what to do, I was attacked by those creatures you call darkspawn. Then Alistair and the other recruits came to my aid. I imagine you know the rest."

Duncan folded his hands together, and looked at her with a considering gaze. "This is truly all that you can remember?"

Ayla nodded. It was, after all. She was just leaving out a few facts that they didn't need to know quite yet. But everything she'd told them was completely true.

"You'll forgive me if I am suspicious. Your story is very difficult to believe. If it is true, I can only imagine some type of magic brought you to the Wilds. You are correct that I have never heard of your country, and I had thought that I knew every country in Thedas. I would be inclined to think you were making it up, but you are wearing clothes different from any I have seen, and the crest you bear is different from any that I know of, as well. It also seems like a much too elaborate ruse for the purpose of getting to risk your life fighting alongside the Grey Wardens. Not to mention, there is no way you could have known that Alistair and the recruits would be there at that particular time." Duncan paused here, and seemed to be thinking.

Ayla waited, holding her breath. He was smart, this Duncan, logical, and fair. It sounded like she might have a chance of convincing him after all.

Duncan turned to look at Alistair. "Alistair also tells me you're a skilled fighter, and we could certainly use more of those. I have a feeling that you are not telling me everything, but I also believe you are sincere in your desire to help. So, I am going to allow you to stay with us."

"Thank you –" Ayla began, but he held up a hand to forestall her.

"There are conditions, however, which you must agree to, or I will not allow it."

Ayla nodded. She'd expected no less. Any commander worthy of the title would not simply allow a strange warrior to join them without some kind of restrictions. "What are the conditions?"

"The first condition is that if you are fighting with the Grey Wardens, you will be expected to act as one, meaning that you must follow the orders of the Warden Commander at all times. The second condition is that you must not divulge any secrets you might learn about the Wardens while fighting with us, under pain of death. Finally, if I suspect at any time that you are a danger to any of us, or our King, I will do whatever is necessary to end that danger." His eyes were cold on the last sentence, his face set. Ayla had no doubt he'd do as he said, if he felt it necessary.

Ayla nodded again. "I agree to your conditions. They all seem fair and straightforward. Where would you like me to begin, Commander?"

Duncan smiled suddenly as he rose to his feet. "I have a meeting to attend with the King, regarding the upcoming battle with the darkspawn. Since Alistair was the one who found you, you are his responsibility. For now, you go where he goes. At the moment, the two of you will remain here to watch over Aedan. When I return from the meeting, I should have further orders for you."

Ayla nodded. "Yes, Commander." She watched Duncan head off again, back in the direction he'd come from, and turned to Alistair.

It wouldn't be much of a hardship to go where he went, she decided. She'd already come to the conclusion she wanted to find out what was under that splintmail armour of his, besides his broad shoulders. She had the feeling he was very well defined under there. Being partnered with him, so to speak, would only make it that much easier to eventually find out. Plus, from what she'd seen so far, he was a skilled warrior as well, and she felt she could trust him to watch her back on the battlefield.

"Sorry about that," Alistair muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was the only way he'd agree to let you along, if I took personal responsibility for keeping an eye on you, in case you were up to something."

"Not to worry," Ayla assured him. "I wanted to come along, after all, and I do believe I'll enjoy travelling with you."

"You will?" He looked startled. "Huh, that's a switch."

Ayla fought back a grin, and turned her attention to more serious matters. "What happened to the other two recruits? Why does Aedan look so ill?"

Alistair sighed, and looked away. "I suppose it won't do any good to try to hide it from you. Just remember, you agreed to keep any secrets you learned about the Wardens." He looked at her again, and when she nodded, he went on. "As I said, the Joining is kind of permanent. It changes our bodies in order to let us fight the darkspawn more effectively. Not everybody makes it through the change. Those that do, feel ill at first, and need some time to recover."

"Daveth and Jory were not able to make it through the change, then," Ayla guessed. Seeing the sorrow in Alistair's eyes as he nodded, she knew she had the right answer. "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he murmured. "I can wish that it wasn't necessary, but Duncan says there is no other way to fight them, and defeat a Blight. At least Aedan made it through."

"You should get something to eat," Ayla urged him. If she'd been hungry when she got back, however long ago that was now, she could only imagine how hungry he must be. "I'll keep an eye on Aedan's tent while you do."

"Well, I am hungry," he admitted. "Are you sure that's okay?"

"Yes, go," she waved him off. "Besides, Aedan might be hungry when he feels better, too."

"You're right, I'll get us both some food." Alistair got to his feet and headed in the direction of the food tent.

Ayla wondered while she watched him go, just what it was that the Joining entailed, that it could potentially take the lives of those who went through it. It wasn't her secret to know, not yet. Maybe they would trust her with it eventually. Maybe she'd eventually trust them with the secrets of her own abilities and where she came from, too. Only time would tell. For now, she'd accomplished the first goal she'd set for herself in this strange new world. She was going to fight alongside the Grey Wardens. It only remained to see just how that fight would play out.


	3. The Last of His Line

_I apologize for the long gap between updates! The last couple of months have been very busy for me! I am going to have to try for monthly updates I think, but I will do my best to make it biweekly if possible. Once again, thanks to those who have followed and favorited so far, it's great to know that you appreciate the story! Special thanks to Musical Rain, who wrote my first ever review, it's very encouraging to know that you like it so far! Feel free to let me know if you have any questions or things you'd like to see. I had fully intended to actually get to the Tower of Ishal this chapter, and hopefully get all the way to the end of the Tower, but Aedan got in the way lol. So the next chapter will be the Tower of Ishal, for sure, and I will keep it at Ayla's POV for now. I intend to switch back to Alistair after the Tower. Hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age and all related characters, as usual._

The Last of His Line

Alistair returned within a few moments, bearing a large wooden tray that he was carefully trying to keep balanced. There were four bowls of stew on it, as well as a loaf of bread and an entire wheel of cheese. When he reached the fire, he set it down carefully by the log next to Ayla, and sat down himself as well.

Ayla couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice. "Are you afraid there will be a shortage of cheese or food in general?"

Alistair smiled sheepishly. "Not really. I'm rather fond of cheese, and I eat a lot. Aedan will want a lot to eat, when he wakes up. It's sort of a side effect of the Joining."

A side effect? Ayla thought. How interesting. Did their bodies require more sustenance because of whatever powers they gained? "All right, I'll leave it alone. Since we're going to be working together from now on, why don't you tell me more about yourself? I believe you said something about being a templar before you became a Grey Warden?"

Alistair finished the mouthful of food he had. "Well, not exactly. I was in training to become a templar when Duncan found me and decided to recruit me for the Grey Wardens. Since I was raised in the Chantry, they wanted me to become a templar. But when I met Duncan, he saw that I wasn't happy and asked what I wanted to do. He was the first person I'd ever met who cared what I wanted. So, I decided I wanted to become a Grey Warden, and help him. He thought my training as a templar would be useful against the darkspawn, so I've kept up with it. Anything else you'd like to know?"

Ayla thought about it. The Chantry sounded like it must be the religious order of this country. Was he an orphan, then? He hadn't mentioned any family. "What about your family?"

Alistair looked down at his food. "I don't have any. My mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe Castle, who died when I was very young. I never met my father. Arl Eamon, who is the lord of Redcliffe castle, raised me, but I eventually ended up in the Chantry. What about your family?"

She sighed. "I only have my brother, anymore. My mother died when I was young also, and my father was killed a few years ago in battle." She never liked to think about what had happened to her father, but she supposed it was her own fault for bringing up the subject of families. "I mean, there are other members of the Trichlor clan, uncles and cousins and the like, but my brother and I keep to ourselves mostly."

Alistair looked like he was about to ask a question, when the tent flap opened and Aedan came out. He still looked quite pale, but he wasn't as sweaty anymore and was walking on his own. He came over and sat down nearby.

"How are you feeling?" Alistair asked him. "Are you hungry?"

"I'll be all right, I think," Aedan replied. "But yes, I am hungry."

"Here." Alistair passed him one of the bowls of stew, and a hunk of bread. Aedan took them, and tore off a chunk of bread.

After he swallowed, he glanced over at Ayla. "So are you planning to accompany us, then?"

Ayla nodded. "Although I'm not actually a Grey Warden like you are now, Duncan agreed to let me stay with all of you and help with this Blight. I'd like to accompany you until the fight's over. Besides," she smiled at Alistair, "Alistair and I have a deal, right?"

"That we do, my lady," Alistair gave her a mock bow. "You defeat the Blight with us, and I'll help you get back home. Maybe Aedan will help, too."

"If we get through this Blight alive, I have something of my own I need to take care of," Aedan growled. Ayla saw a dark shadow pass over his face.

"What is it?" she asked. "Perhaps I could help you with that, as well, before I leave."

"If you do not mind helping to kill a man, you are certainly welcome to come along," Aedan retorted, returning his attention to his food.

"I assume he must have wronged you in some way. If that's the case, I don't mind helping at all." Ayla knew, after all, what it was to want revenge.

"Wronged me?" Aedan laughed bitterly. "Yes, I suppose you could say that. If by wronged you mean slaughtering my entire family and everyone around us. I would have been dead as well if it were not for Duncan and my mabari hound Striker."

Ayla looked at Alistair, who appeared to be as shocked as she felt. "By the Maker," he whispered. "Duncan mentioned that something tragic happened at Highever when he went there to recruit, but he didn't say what. Does that mean that you're a Cousland?"

Aedan swallowed and looked down at his food, his jaw working. "Yes, you might be looking at the last remaining Cousland, unless my brother Fergus is still alive. He left with my father's troops before it happened, which is why we had no one to defend us. King Cailan said that he was out on patrol and I would not be able to see him until after the battle. But I imagine that bastard Howe had a plan for my brother as well."

"You can't mean - Arl Rendon Howe killed your family?" Now the shock was apparent in Alistair's voice as well. Ayla was having a little trouble following the conversation, but her best guess was that the Cousland family to which Aedan belonged must be some sort of nobility, and from what Alistair had said about Arl Eamon being a lord, that the title of Arl must indicate nobility in general. It wasn't entirely unusual, even in Fallor, for there to be in-fighting among the nobility. She couldn't recall ever hearing of an entire noble family being slaughtered in Fallor, though.

Aedan's fist clenched, and now there was fury sparking in his grey eyes. "Yes. He was supposed to be my father's friend. They were friends since before I was born, when they fought alongside King Maric to free us from the Orlesians. I thought of him as an uncle! That's why no one thought anything of it when he claimed his troops were delayed, and my father let him and the soldiers he had with him stay overnight while he sent Fergus on ahead with almost all of our fighting men. But during the night, they attacked. They . . ." his voice broke.

Ayla could only imagine the pain he was going through. She'd lost her father, and that had been bad enough. She couldn't imagine what losing one's entire family could feel like. "It's okay. You don't have to tell us about it."

Aedan looked up at her, and shook his head. "No, if we are to fight together, you two should know what he's capable of, if we ever run into him." He took a deep breath, and continued, "They went on a rampage through the main house. They killed everyone. Women, children, servants. Nan, who was our cook, her kitchen staff, maids, a friend of my mother's who was there, the girl I was with that night, everyone. Including my brother's wife and his 7-year-old son. I was going to teach him how to use a sword while his father was away, but they cut him down. A child."

His voice became almost monotone as he continued, as though he were trying very hard to keep any emotion out of it. "With my hound's help, I killed the ones that came for me, and found my mother. Together we went to the servant's entrance in the larder, where we found my father bleeding out from the wound Howe gave him. Duncan had helped him get there. My father asked Duncan to help me and my mother get out, since we were already surrounded. Duncan agreed, under the condition I become a Grey Warden. My father and I agreed to his terms, and then my mother decided to stay behind to buy us time. That's how I got recruited, and the soonest I can, I'm going after Howe and I will make that traitor pay for what he's done."

Ayla couldn't blame him for feeling that way. She'd never heard anything as monstrous as what he'd just described. Even what had happened to her father hadn't been that horrendous. At least the people who'd killed him hadn't been his friends. She was about to tell Aedan she'd have no problem helping him kill this Howe of his, when Alistair spoke.

"As soon as this Blight is over, I'll go help you bring Howe down. You're a Warden, you're one of us now, so I'll help you with whatever you need." He looked over at Ayla. "Sorry, but I might have to take a little longer before I can hold up my deal with you."

Ayla smiled. She was liking Alistair more by the minute. "That's fine; I was actually just going to suggest we help Aedan first before we go looking for a way to get me home. After all, some people deserve death, and it sounds like this Howe deserves it several times over."

"Thank you," Aedan began, "but you do not have to help me. This is my fight, not yours. Howe is my problem."

Ayla shook her head. "I insist. Someone like that cannot be left to do as he pleases, especially if he has his own personal army to help him."

"Exactly," Alistair nodded. "Besides, like I said, you're one of us now. Your problems are now everybody's problem. And even if you try to get rid of us, we'll just follow you anyway."

Aedan shrugged. "Have it your way, then. After the Blight is done, you can follow me to Highever if you like. I will not stop you."

Ayla suspected he was more grateful than he seemed, since he once again couldn't meet their eyes. But she knew it was hard to get past one's pride to accept help. She and her brother had refused any help in their own revenge, after all. It was at that moment she heard footsteps approaching, and looked towards the ramp.

She was barely able to make out Duncan's figure approaching through the gathering darkness. She also noticed that Alistair had turned to look at the same time she did. She knew that she'd heard Duncan before anybody else should have been able to, so how had Alistair known? Was it because Duncan was also a Grey Warden? This whole Grey Warden thing was really starting to make her curious, she had to admit.

Duncan approached the fire. "King Cailan has laid out his battle plan. The majority of the Grey Wardens are to join him and several of the troops on the front line, to draw out the approaching horde. Meanwhile, Teyrn Loghain will be waiting with the rest of the soldiers for a signal to flank the horde. The King has asked that Alistair and our new recruit, Aedan, make their way to the top of the Tower of Ishal to light the beacon. And since you, Ayla, are to go where Alistair goes . . ."

"That means I get to go up there with them," Ayla finished for him. She wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not. She had to admit she wasn't in any hurry to face an entire horde of those monsters, but she also didn't see why it was necessary to send three perfectly good fighters to light a beacon. Didn't they have other soldiers they could use?

Alistair shot to his feet. "What? I won't be in the battle?" Well, he definitely wasn't pleased, Ayla thought wryly. She could see the disappointment and anger all over his face.

Duncan turned to face him. "This is by the king's personal request, Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men won't know when to charge."

"So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch. Just in case, right?" Alistair said sarcastically.

Aedan got to his feet as well, setting down his bowl. "I agree with Alistair. We should be in the battle. I did not agree to become a Grey Warden so I could light some torches."

Duncan glared at the two of them. "That is not your choice. If King Cailan wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then we will be there. We must do whatever it takes to defeat the darkspawn, exciting or no." He stated this with a clipped finality that reminded Ayla of her father delivering orders.

Alistair sighed and scuffed his feet in the dirt. "I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the King ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no."

Ayla had no idea what the Remigold was, but just the idea of Alistair in a dress dancing period made her laugh. She grinned at him. "I think I would like to see that."

He looked down at her, those hazel eyes twinkling in appreciation. "For you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress."

She couldn't help laughing again. "I am sure we could find you something nice if we looked hard enough."

Duncan sighed heavily and continued as if he hadn't heard them. "The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the king's camp, the way we came when we arrived. You'll need to cross the gorge and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance. From the top, you'll overlook the entire valley."

"When do we light the beacon?" Aedan asked.

"We will signal you when the time is right. Alistair will know what to look for." Duncan nodded at Alistair, who nodded in return. More Grey Warden secrets? Ayla wondered.

"What about after we finish lighting the beacon? Can we join the battle?" Aedan pressed.

Duncan shook his head. "Stay with the Teyrn's men and guard the tower. If you are needed, we will send word. Any other questions?"

He looked around at the three of them, but they all shook their heads. The orders were clear enough, Ayla thought, even if they didn't make a whole lot of sense.

"Then I must join the others. From here, you three are on your own." He looked at Alistair and Aedan. "Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title." He turned to Ayla. "And I hope you are as helpful as you say you are."

Ayla nodded. "I will do my best to be of help to the two of them."

As Duncan turned to walk away, Alistair called after him. "Duncan, may the Maker watch over you."

"May He watch over us all," Duncan replied heavily, before continuing on his way.

This Maker must be the deity they worshipped here in Ferelden, Ayla decided. She'd always been taught that the Goddess was the Queen of all the worlds, so who was this Maker they spoke of? Some demon posing as a false god, or just another face of the Goddess? She'd heard the Goddess was incapable of actually interfering in some worlds, or speaking to their people, and in those cases, the worlds would make up their own deities. There was so much she had to learn about this world, and yet, how to ask without further arousing suspicion about herself?

Alistair turned back to them. "Are the two of you ready? We should head for the Tower of Ishal as soon as possible."

Ayla nodded, patting the swords at her hips. "I have everything I need right here."

"Just a minute." Aedan went back into the tent, and emerged with his greatsword strapped to his back, along with a pack. Like Alistair, he'd already been wearing his splintmail. It appeared like neither of them went anywhere without full armor. Ayla didn't know how they could stand it. In Fallor, the most warriors ever wore was light chainmail, perhaps with some greaves or bracers. Her father had always told her that their powers didn't work as well if they wore too much armor. She didn't know if that was really true or not, but everyone in the Order swore by it. Not to mention, you could move a lot faster if you weren't weighed down by heavy armor.

Aedan looked around. "Striker should be back soon, too. He was with Duncan when we were in the Wilds, and Duncan said he'd just gone out hunting before we got back."

"I'm afraid we don't have time to wait," Alistair replied. "The battle's going to start any minute, and we can't afford to miss the signal. I'm sure you'll be able to find him once the battle's over."

Aedan nodded. "I suppose you are right. We should get moving, then."

Alistair began to lead the way through the camp towards a set of towers. As they walked, Ayla couldn't shake a sudden sense of foreboding. All her instincts were screaming at her to run. Any warrior of the Order knew it was a mistake to ignore your instincts, and any battle she'd been in before, she'd looked forward to. She'd never wanted to run before in her life.

She caught up to Alistair as they walked. "Something isn't right," she whispered to him. "I feel like something horrible is going to happen."

"Well, there is a horde of darkspawn on its way here. If that isn't horrible, I don't know what is. You've never faced darkspawn before the Wilds, right? That's probably all it is." He smiled reassuringly at her.

Ayla frowned, frustrated. It was true, she didn't know anything about those darkspawn, and it was obvious there was something corrupt or wrong with those creatures. She couldn't be sure her instincts weren't reacting to that. "I suppose that could be it."

"It'll be fine, you'll see. Duncan has a plan, and Loghain is Ferelden's greatest general. He'll help us win this battle, and then we'll take care of your and Aedan's business."

He sounded so confident, Ayla decided to let it drop for now. "All right, if you say so."

"I do," he replied. "Now come on, we've got to get to the Tower."

But as they reached the bridge that stretched across the gorge, Ayla couldn't shake the feeling. She only hoped that they would manage to live through the coming battle, because it was too late for her to turn back now.


	4. The Tower of Ishal

_All right, as an apology for waiting so long for the third chapter, I kept working until I got the fourth chapter done, and decided to post it right away. I finally got them through the Tower of Ishal! Next chapter will go to Alistair's POV. As always, thanks to those who favorite and follow! And anyone who'd like to review, even just a few words would be appreciated! Hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age, etc._

The Tower of Ishal

It had started to rain when they reached the massive stone bridge that spanned the gorge, prompting Ayla to flip up the hood of her cloak. It was her first time seeing the bridge, as the gate from the Korcari Wilds that she'd entered the camp from was on the opposite side of the ruins. She couldn't help but be impressed at the width of the bridge, or how high it was off the ground. She'd never seen anything like it before.

However, the view was spoiled by the fact that catapults were launching flaming balls of rock at the bridge and the defenders lining it, who were doing their best to shoot arrows at the teeming mass of battle below. It couldn't have been an easy job, between the darkness, the pouring rain, and the fact that the bridge shook every time a rock succeeded in hitting it. A small portion of the wall was blown away by a flaming rock as they watched, and two men went down.

Alistair looked back at the two of them. "We have to hurry and get across before this whole bridge comes down!"

"Let's move then!" Ayla yelled back.

As she and Aedan began to follow Alistair as he ran across, keeping to the left side of the bridge in an attempt to avoid both the defenders and the catapults, she wished she could change her form. It would be so much faster for her to get across the bridge if only she dared to do it. But there were two problems with that scenario. One, she didn't even know if her powers worked in this world, and two, she had no idea how her companions or the other soldiers would react if they did work. No, it was better to rely on her human legs for now. Maybe later, once she knew Alistair and Aedan better, she might give it a try.

They were halfway across when Ayla heard the whistling noise, and suddenly Alistair reached back, grabbed her arm, and flung both of them forward. A flaming rock hit the bridge where she'd just been standing, and two more soldiers had gone down in a blaze. Aedan had managed to jump back to safety at the same time Alistair had pulled her forward.

Ayla took a deep breath to steady herself as she looked at the damage behind her. "Thanks, Alistair. I owe you one."

He grinned down at her, a white flash of teeth through the darkness and rain. "No problem, I'm sure you'll pay me back soon enough. Let's keep moving. Aedan, are you good?"

Aedan trotted past them. "I'm fine; now let's get off this damn bridge!"

Alistair and Ayla followed after him as he continued towards the ruins on the other side. Ayla could make out an archway of stone on the other side of the bridge, with a stone wall extending from either side of it as far as the eye could see. Flashes of lightning had started to split the sky to add to the chaos, and every so often, she could catch a glimpse of a stone tower beyond the walls in the blinding flashes of light.

They finally reached the archway without incident, and Ayla caught up with Aedan just in time to hear him mutter something to the effect of, "would've been safer down on the damn battlefield."

The three of them passed through the archway. Just beyond was a bonfire in the middle of a sort of courtyard, with a ramp of stone extending up beyond it. Just as they reached the bonfire, a man in robes carrying a wooden staff came running down, with a wild look in his eyes. "You – you're Grey Wardens, aren't you?" he panted. "The tower – it's been taken!"

Alistair pushed forward. "What are you talking about man, taken how?"

"Weren't Teyrn Loghain's men supposed to have it secured?" Aedan demanded.

"The darkspawn came up through the lower chambers. They're everywhere. Most of our men are dead!" The man, whom Ayla suspected was a mage, was very close to complete panic. His voice almost cracked at the end.

Alistair looked between Aedan and Ayla. "Then we have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves!"

Ayla nodded. "Duncan said that beacon had to be lit. Just because it's not a stroll through the tower anymore, doesn't change our mission."

"Let's get a move on, then!" Aedan looked at the mage. "Are you coming with us? We could use a mage's powers, especially if you've studied healing."

The mage hesitated, then nodded. "I have some healing magic, and I can add flame to your swords, as well. I'll come with you."

The four of them headed up the ramp that the mage had come down, and began making their way to the tower. The tower was at the top of a steep hill, which had several ramps and walkways set up along it for defense. As they continued up, they ran across bands of three or four darkspawn at a time, and quickly fell into a rhythm.

As the only one with a shield, Alistair took point, doing his best to draw the attention of the darkspawn to him. Aedan followed close behind, usually keeping a little to the right to avoid bringing Alistair within range of his swing. Ayla would circle around to Alistair's left, trying to get behind the darkspawn while they focused on Alistair and Aedan, and take them down with quick backstabs or beheadings. The mage brought up the rear, casting flame spells on their weapons and the occasional healing spell if one of them took a wound. The combination was effective; they made it to the doors of the tower without incident.

Alistair pushed open the big double doors, and they entered the tower. Ayla was relieved to be out of the rain; even with her cloak, she was soaked through, and it was miserable work fighting in a storm. At least it was warm out; she didn't want to imagine how much worse it would have been if it had been cold.

"What now?" Ayla asked, pushing back the hood of her cloak.

"The beacon will be on the top floor," Alistair answered. "We'll have to make our way up there. If I remember right, the stairs to the next floor are on the opposite side of the tower from the entrance. We'll have to make our way over there."

Ayla and Aedan nodded, and they began to make their way through the first floor. Ayla spotted a trip wire, and disabled it before Alistair or Aedan tripped it up. She mentally thanked her fellow warrior, Pakal, for showing her his traps and tricks of the trade. Just beyond the trap, they came across a group of darkspawn. Ayla had noticed outside that, like in the Wilds, there were darkspawn that were even taller than Alistair as well as the ones that were shorter than her. In here, there were more of them, and this time, she spotted one of the shorter ones wielding a staff like a mage.

"It's a genlock emissary!" Alistair yelled as he bashed his shield into the first darkspawn that rushed them. "It can cast spells! Try to take it out first!"

"On it!" Ayla responded, dashing around to the left of Alistair and towards the staff-wielding genlock, as he'd called it. She used all the speed her human self could muster, dodging and batting aside swords, and when the emissary flung a spell at her, she rolled out of the way. Coming up at a run, she caught the staff on her left sword and thrust forward with her right, spearing the emissary in the chest. As it gurgled and stumbled, she yanked out her sword and took its head off in a clean blow.

"Ayla, behind you!" Aedan yelled.

She dove to the right and rolled again, coming up with her swords out. As she gained her feet, she noticed it was one of the big darkspawn, which had just swung its sword down where she'd been standing. Before she could even move to engage it, Alistair came up behind it and ran his longsword through its chest, knocked it to the ground, and finished it off with one more stroke.

She took a quick look around the large circular room they'd found themselves in, which was full of flaming rubble and bodies. All the other darkspawn were down already. "You couldn't let me have more than one?" she joked as she sheathed her swords.

Alistair shrugged and grinned. "Sorry, I'm not very good at sharing."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said dryly.

"Nice job on the emissary," Aedan said as he came past them. "Spellcasters can be big trouble if they are left to the last."

"I'll be happy to keep taking care of them if you two have my back," Ayla answered.

"Sounds like a deal," Alistair agreed.

The four of them continued on their way through the first floor. In one of the rooms, they discovered a large hole in the stone flooring which appeared to lead deep underground. Ayla wrinkled her nose. It smelled like death and the darkspawn, that appalling scent of corruption she'd started to associate with them. "That must be how they got in and took the tower." She gestured to the hole.

Alistair nodded. "It would make sense. They like the underground and the Deep Roads. Come on, we're almost to the second floor."

They found the stairs leading to the second floor shortly thereafter, and after battling through another group of darkspawn in the stairwell, made their way through the doors to the second floor. They stopped for a second to catch their breath.

"Maker's breath!" Alistair gasped, leaning over with his hands braced on his thighs. "What are these darkspawn doing ahead of the rest of the horde? There wasn't supposed to be any resistance here!"

"Weren't you complaining that you wouldn't get to fight?" Ayla pointed out. She was leaning against the wall next to him.

"Exactly," Aedan said. "This job is no longer a waste of our time."

"Hey, you're right. I guess there is a silver lining here if you think about it." Alistair winked at Ayla, then straightened up. "At any rate, we need to hurry! We need to get up to the top of the tower and light the signal fire in time! Teyrn Loghain will be waiting for the signal!"

"Right, let's go!"

They continued making their way through the tower, which was much the same as the first floor. They encountered bands of darkspawn roaming throughout each level and room of the tower, and between the four of them, were able to effectively take them out. They also looted all the storage chests they came across for any useable supplies, including health poultices for their wounds and lyrium potions for the mage that was with them. Apparently that was how he replenished his magic use; in Fallor, he would've had to sleep in order to restore his abilities, Ayla mused. Although he seemed to run out of magic use faster than the mages back home.

Finally, they reached the stairs leading up to the top level of the tower. As they paused at the bottom for a brief rest, allowing the mage to drink his potion, Ayla picked up the sound of very heavy footsteps lumbering around on the floor above. As she listened, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and all her instincts started clamouring again. There was something very dangerous up there.

As she turned to Alistair to warn him, she noticed that he was looking at the door at the top of the stairs as well. His brow was furrowed and his head was cocked to the side as though he were trying to make something out. "Alistair, there's something big and dangerous up there."

He turned to her, surprised. "How did you know that?"

She raised her eyebrows, equally surprised. He'd already known? "I . . . have pretty good hearing. Whatever it is has heavy footsteps, so it's got to be big, and dangerous usually follows big. How did you know?"

He looked away. "Ah, Grey Warden stuff. But yes, it's big. If I'm right, it's an ogre. Which makes it really dangerous. But I think it's the only thing up there."

Aedan had come over while they were talking. "Well, dangerous or not, we have no choice. That's the top floor, and we still need to light the beacon. We might as well get this over with."

Alistair nodded slowly. "I'll go through first again. If it's right by the door, I can hopefully block the first blow with my shield. The rest of you, get in and out of its reach as fast as you can. Duncan told me if you let an ogre get a hold of you, you're dead. So try to keep away from its arms, and we'll see if we can figure out a strategy to take it down."

They nodded, and everyone got their weapons out and ready. Alistair went up the stairs first, and they followed closely behind. He opened the door and went through. Just as Ayla got in the doorway behind him, she saw the huge purplish arm come swinging towards him. Alistair got his shield up in time to catch the blow on it, but it sent him flying across the room into the wall on the other side.

There wasn't any time to hesitate. In the brief window she had, Ayla dashed into the room and to the left, since Alistair had gone to the right, and the huge creature was already lumbering over to where he'd gone down. Aedan followed her. She could only stare in astonishment at the creature – it was over twice the height of the tallest person she'd ever seen, and twice the width as well. Huge horns curled out of the top of its massive head, straight up into the air. Ayla was just reaching for one of the daggers she kept hidden on herself to throw at it to distract it from Alistair, when the mage entered the room and flung a fireball at it.

The ogre roared in anger as the fireball struck, and turned toward the mage. Alistair was struggling to his feet at the far side of the room. The mage tried to run, but not being as fast as the others, he wasn't able to get out of the ogre's reach in time. Just as the three of them got within reach to use their weapons, the ogre picked up the mage in one massive hand and squeezed. With a scream and an unholy squelching sound of bones being broken, the mage died as blood burst from between the ogre's fingers. The mage's broken body was flung to the side.

"Damn you, darkspawn!" Aedan yelled as he swung his greatsword at the back of the ogre's leg. He caught the ogre just above the knee, and the finely honed steel cut right into the flesh, causing another spurt of blood and another furious roar from the ogre as it went down on one knee.

It swung as it went, and the three of them barely rolled out of the way in time. "What's the plan?" Alistair yelled. "We just lost the only person that can attack it from a distance!"

Ayla thought frantically as the three of them swung and dodged out of the reach of the ogre. The only thing that came to her mind was a move she and her brother had used from time to time. It wasn't ideal to use in a situation where she hadn't practiced with the other person, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

Alistair would be the better of the two to help, she decided. Though he and Aedan were roughly the same height, Aedan was a little more slender and wiry. Alistair should have the strength to pull off her brother's part of the move. "I have an idea!" she called to them as they all flung themselves out of the path of the charging ogre.

"What?" They both yelled back.

"Aedan, can you keep it busy for a few seconds? I'll need you to give me a boost in the air, Alistair! With enough height, I should be able to catch it in the chest!"

"What? Are you crazy?!" Alistair exclaimed as he came up next to her.

"It's the only way to get it where we can actually do any major damage," Ayla shot back. "Aedan, can you do it?"

He nodded. "Leave it to me, but make it fast!" He ran at the ogre, and dodged around to its backside to swing at its legs. He began turning it in a circle, as the ogre turned to try to catch him, he would run around to its back again and keep at its legs.

"Okay, Alistair, listen up," Ayla said. "Get in front of the ogre, as close as you can without it catching you, and lean forward a little bit. I'll launch off your back and go at its chest. Make it quick!"

He gave her a dubious glance before he nodded. "If you're sure it'll work, let's go."

The two of them ran forward, just as the ogre turned back to face their section of the room. Alistair stopped just in front of the ogre, leaning forward a little bit to give her a sloped section of back. Ayla turned her swords so the blades were facing back, and took a run at Alistair. She jumped just before she reached him, planting a foot on his back, and he shoved upwards at the same time, launching her into the air.

As she was heading towards the ogre's chest, she managed to get her blades turned around so they were pointing at the ogre. Fortunately, both her momentum and the fact that Aedan was still distracting it prevented the ogre from being fast enough to grab her. She hit it full in the chest, both her swords going straight into the hilt. "Aedan, move!" She screamed as the ogre started to tip backwards.

Aedan rolled out of the way just as the ogre gave another almighty roar and fell flat onto its back with an earth-shaking thud. Ayla rode it down, then dove off and rolled to the side as the ogre reached for the swords in its chest, roaring. Alistair raced forward, skirting around the side of the ogre, and coming up alongside its head, stabbed his longsword straight down into its eye, twisting the point viciously. Just as he did so, Aedan brought his greatsword down across its neck with enough force to bite halfway through. With a final gurgle, the ogre stopped moving and its arms crashed down to its side.

Ayla came back over to the ogre and jumped on its chest, yanking out her swords, before jumping back down next to Alistair and Aedan. Alistair had just pulled his sword out, too, and Aedan was cleaning his.

"I can't believe that actually worked!" Alistair was staring at her in amazement and a little admiration, she thought. "It was crazy, but it worked!"

"Hey, I'm just as surprised as you are," she grinned. "I've pulled that move with my brother a few times, but we've practiced it a lot, and it's usually used to get over a crowd of people, not to fly at an ogre. I never expected it to work so well with somebody I've never tried it with."

Alistair chuckled. "I guess we work well together."

"Hey, Alistair!" Aedan yelled. He'd already crossed the room over to the one window that looked outside. "Do you know if it's time to light the beacon?"

Alistair trotted over to the fireplace that was right beside the window, which would send the fire up to the beacon to light it at the top of the tower. "We've probably already missed the signal, let's just light the beacon!"

Ayla followed him over to the fireplace. Aedan tossed Alistair a torch that was by the window, and he dropped it on the pile of tinder in the fireplace. It lit up with a whoosh, running up to the beacon. Ayla crossed over to the window, looking to see if she could spot the battle. It was nearly impossible to make anything out clearly with the darkness, the rain, and the thunder. All she could see were the torches amid the dark mass below, but she couldn't tell which side was where.

She heard the clatter of multiple feet on the stairs at the same time as the hairs on the back of her neck rose again. She turned back to the door at the same time as Alistair did. It burst open, and darkspawn after darkspawn rushed through.

As the three of them raced forward, weapons drawn, the arrows started flying through the air. The last thing Ayla saw as she felt arrows thud into her flesh and her world started to go dark, was Alistair in front of her, trying to block the arrows with his shield. Then the world slipped out from under her.


	5. Aftermath

_Author's note: Went back to an Alistair POV this time. Hopefully it doesn't sound too out of character! I always got the impression there was a lot more going on in Alistair's head than he let on, though. Which is why a lot of internal dialogue in this chapter. Next one will be about Lothering, obviously, and I think I'll continue as Alistair for that. _

_Again, sorry for the delay, things are always busy! I have some time off this week, though, so I might be able to get another chapter up this week, we'll see! I'm still not entirely certain how much of all the events I'm going to show, I might skip over some stuff later, but for right now I wanted to show this part, as I felt it was an important turning point in the game._

_As always, thanks for the favorites and follows, I'm happy to see there are people enjoying this story! The more encouragement I get, the harder I'll work! ;) nudge nudge. Again, thanks to Musical Rain for the reviews, I really appreciate you taking the time to review every chapter! I'm glad to see that you liked the battle scenes, I always feel uncertain when I'm writing those! Don't worry, you'll get to find out what Ayla can do eventually ;). I have an idea for when and how I want to reveal her abilities. Thanks also to Padme4000 for being my second ever reviewer, glad to know you like my OC and are interested so far! Hope to see more people review, even just a few words would be appreciated! Any suggestions/comments for where you'd like things to go would be great also!_

Aftermath

Alistair paced back and forth at the edge of the swamp across from the ramshackle old hut. He couldn't believe that he was still alive, or that they were back in the Wilds again. It had been three days since he'd awakened in the hut following the battle. He'd learned that Morrigan and her mother had saved him and the others. Though he was grateful, he couldn't make himself believe that it was out of the goodness of their hearts. They had a purpose for it, he was sure, that they weren't going to reveal to him.

He was still having trouble accepting everything that had happened. Morrigan's mother had told him when he awoke that the battle at Ostagar had been lost. For some reason, Teyrn Loghain hadn't responded to the signal they'd worked so hard to raise. Instead, he'd pulled his troops from the field, and everyone left on the battlefield had been slaughtered, according to Morrigan's mother. Every last one of the Grey Wardens but himself and Aedan, and even King Cailan, had died on that field before he'd woken up.

He couldn't believe it. How could Duncan – and all the others – be dead? Why had the greatest hero in all of Ferelden abandoned his king and the rest of the warriors with him to their deaths? How could this have happened? Why couldn't he have been with the others? He wasn't really delusional enough to think that he could have done anything to save them, and yet at the same time, he couldn't keep himself from wishing he had been there with them. Duncan had been like a father to him, and now he was gone. The grief was crushing him.

Worse than all of that, though, was the waiting. He'd been the first to wake up, having apparently received the least serious wounds. Aedan and Ayla had still been unconscious in the hut, being treated for their wounds. All of them had been near death, but Ayla had been the worst off, the mage women had informed him. Not that that surprised him; she hadn't been wearing any armor that he could see. But he was sick with worry for her, nonetheless. He hadn't been able to do anything with his time other than pace around and worry.

Since he'd first seen her in the Wilds, he'd been drawn to her, fascinated by her, and attracted to her. The brief time they'd spent together at the camp and fighting together in the tower had only increased all of those feelings. If she were to die now before he got a chance to find out more about her, he didn't know if he could take it. Especially since she'd been there only to help him and the other Wardens. The women had assured him so far that she was still alive and they expected her to recover, but they'd refused to let him see her.

They'd been right about Aedan recovering, though, Alistair thought. He looked over to his left, where there was a fire going on the edge of the swamp. Aedan sat by it, talking to Morrigan in low tones. He'd woken up just a day ago, and Alistair had been incredibly relieved to not be the only Grey Warden left. Aedan was still a little sore, he'd said, but otherwise fine. By now, Alistair was back in full fighting shape, physically anyway. But the two had agreed to wait until Ayla awoke before making any plans or moving on. They couldn't wait much longer, though.

As if on cue with his thoughts, the door of the hut opened. Alistair stopped in his tracks and turned towards it. Ayla was coming out. His heart soared with relief to see her alive and well. She looked even more beautiful than before, he thought, though that might have been the relief talking. She was dressed in her same outfit, though there were tears in the tunic and leggings where the arrows had struck. He made up his mind that he was going to get her some armor. He had no idea why she hadn't been wearing any in the first place. She also moved more slowly than she had before, he noted. But she was alive, and on her feet, and that was all that mattered.

He started toward her, not quite sure what he planned on doing, but as she came closer and smiled up at him, he pulled into her a hug without even thinking about it. He needed to feel for himself that she was truly alive, and he wasn't just dreaming this part. He pulled her tight against his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. It felt so right to be holding her, he thought. "You – you're alive," he murmured into her hair. "I thought you were dead for sure."

She pulled back in order to smile up at him. This close, he could see she was a little paler than she had been, and there were dark circles under those blue-green eyes of hers, but she looked otherwise fine. "No, it will take a bit more than that to kill me."

Suddenly realizing that hugging a woman he barely knew was inappropriate, he felt himself blush and he stepped back, letting his arms drop away. Then another thought occurred to him. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. You almost died because you came along to help us, and I'm the one who convinced Duncan to let you come."

"Stop," she said sternly, and he looked at her in surprise. Her eyes were flashing fire. "This is not in any way your fault. Putting aside the fact that it was the darkspawn who injured me, it was _my_ decision to come help. Nobody forced me to. And honestly, if Duncan had not agreed, I probably would have followed you in secret anyway. So don't let me hear you say that again."

He nodded slowly, surprisingly finding himself accepting her words. He could see her following along without permission. "All right, I'll try not to blame myself. But I'm very glad that you're all right."

"Thank you. I'm very glad that you're all right, as well. She told me what happened." Ayla nodded towards Morrigan's mother, who'd followed her out of the hut and was now coming towards them. "I'm – very sorry for your loss."

Alistair felt the grief wash over him freshly at her words. He'd been trying his best to ignore it over the last few days, and succeeding for the most part, as he'd had other things to focus his mind on, like whether she and Aedan would wake up. But now, there was nothing to distract him any longer. "Duncan's dead. The Grey Wardens - even the king - they're all dead. This doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower."

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad," the old woman said acidly, coming up next to them. Aedan was coming towards them as well, from his place by the fire. Morrigan, meanwhile, had headed back to the hut and stepped inside.

Alistair almost took a step back. He could still feel the power radiating from her, and she'd been much more coherent this time around than on their previous visit. He could no longer dismiss her as just a crazy old woman, which meant she was a terrifyingly powerful mage. He was doing his best not to antagonize her this time. With that in mind, he hurried to apologize. "I didn't mean - but what do we call you? You never told us your name."

The old woman sniffed. "Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do."

This time he _did_ take a step back. "_The_ Flemeth - from the legends?" He couldn't keep the shock out of his voice, and he saw it reflected on Aedan's face. Ayla, of course, merely looked confused. "Daveth was right – you're the Witch of the Wilds aren't you?"

Flemeth crossed her arms and stared him down. "And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you three well, has it not?"

"So why did you save us?" Aedan put in. Alistair knew that, like himself, Aedan hadn't had much of an opportunity to talk to Flemeth yet, as she'd spent the past day in the hut working on Ayla, and prior to that, she'd been working on Aedan. Morrigan had deflected any questions about the details or reasons for their rescue, stating only that they could ask her mother.

"Well, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we?" Flemeth stated this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Someone has to deal with these darkspawn. It has always been the Grey Warden's duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?"

Aedan snorted. "The land is hardly united, thanks to Loghain."

Alistair felt the confusion overwhelming him again. Loghain was a _hero_. This couldn't be right, it just couldn't. "That doesn't make any sense!" he protested. "Why would he do it?"

Flemeth nodded in approval. "Now that is a good question. Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he doesn't see that the evil behind it is the true threat."

"What is behind the Blight?" Ayla asked, sounding more than a little lost. She also looked reluctant to ask the question, Alistair noted. He'd almost forgotten how little she knew about everything, and felt his curiosity stir anew about how she could have so little knowledge about Ferelden and the Blight. But now wasn't the time to ask her.

"It's the archdemon," he explained to her. "It is supposedly one of the Old Gods that the mages of the Tevinter Imperium worshipped, which look like dragons. The darkspawn spend centuries searching for where the Old Gods were sealed underground. When they find one, it becomes infected with the taint, and that seems to enable them to organize and act."

"Ordinarily, the darkspawn stick mostly to the deep roads, and rarely attack. If they do, it's disorganized, and not much of a threat. But with an Archdemon awakened, they spread to the surface and are able to organize and fight like any other army, only, with overwhelming numbers and the threat of the taint. The archdemon uses some sort of power, or group mind, in order to command them."

"I see," Ayla replied. She looked faintly ill at his explanation. "I suppose that makes sense. They did not strike me as overly intelligent creatures."

"If the archdemon is the one responsible for the Blight, then we need to find it." Aedan crossed his arms, a determined look stamped on his features. If anything, he'd only become more driven since he'd heard what happened at Ostagar, Alistair thought.

Alistair shook his head in response. "By ourselves? No Grey Warden has ever defeated a Blight without the army of a half dozen nations at his back. Not to mention, I don't know how." He shrugged helplessly. He'd only just started to realize how little he truly knew about being a Grey Warden.

"How to kill the archdemon, or how to raise an army?" Flemeth asked. "It seems to me those are two different questions, hmm? Have the Wardens no allies these days?"

Allies? Alistair racked his brain, trying to think of everything Duncan had ever said to him. "I - I don't know. Duncan said that the Grey Wardens of Orlais had been called. And Arl Eamon would never stand for this, surely."

"The Arl of Redcliffe?" Aedan interjected. "Perhaps we could go to him, then."

"I suppose . . ." Alistair said slowly. The more he considered the idea, the more feasible it became. "Arl Eamon wasn't at Ostagar; he still has all his men. And he was Cailan's uncle. I know him. He's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet. Of course!" He smacked his fist into his other hand, becoming excited by the idea. "We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!"

Ayla nodded. "If he does still have all his men, that sounds like a wise course of action. I imagine most of the other lords lost their men at Ostagar."

Aedan looked skeptical. "And say he doesn't help us? What then?"

Flemeth raised her eyebrows at them. "You have more at your disposal than merely old friends."

For a moment, Alistair wondered what she was talking about. Then, it hit him like a flash – the reason they'd met her and Morrigan in the first place. "Of course! The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages and other places! They're obligated to help us during a Blight!"

Flemeth nodded; apparently satisfied he'd drawn the right conclusion. "I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else . . . this sounds like an army to me."

Alistair looked between Ayla and Aedan. "So can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and these other places and build an army?"

Aedan sighed. "I doubt it will be as easy as that."

"When is it ever?" Flemeth said wryly.

"I think it sounds like the only thing we can do," Ayla offered. "We certainly cannot leave things as they stand now."

Alistair suddenly felt more determined, upon hearing Ayla say that, a fact which surprised him a little. And he suddenly remembered Duncan's last words, about being worthy of the title of Grey Wardens. "It's always been the Grey Warden's duty to stand against a Blight," he said with determination, looking over at Aedan. "And right now, we're the Grey Wardens."

"So you are set, then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?" Flemeth pressed, looking between the two of them. She looked at Ayla before adding, "To fulfill your destiny?"

Alistair looked between Flemeth and Ayla, remembering the conversation they'd had the first time she had met. She had said something about Ayla being brought here because she was needed here. Was it because of what happened at Ostagar? Duncan had thought that magic had been the reason she'd appeared in the Wilds. Had Flemeth had something to do with it? Was that why she knew that Ayla wasn't from here, and what she might be needed to do? There were far too many questions that he didn't have the answers for, and he didn't think Ayla did, either. And if Flemeth did, he doubted she would provide them.

Ayla looked as though the same questions were running through her mind, but she nodded with determination. "I am ready, for whatever tasks I must fulfill."

Aedan seemed to be thinking things over, before he nodded in decision as well. "Yes, we are ready. Thank you for everything, Flemeth."

Flemeth shook her head, waving her hands with the motion. "No, no, thank _you_. You are the Grey Wardens here, not I. Now before you go, there is yet one more thing I can offer you."

Before any of them could ask what, Morrigan came back out of the hut and rejoined them. "The stew is bubbling, mother dear. Shall we have three guests for the eve, or none?"

Flemeth turned to look at her. "The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them."

"Such a shame," Morrigan began, in a tone that indicated she couldn't have been more pleased, before she suddenly seemed to hear the rest of what her mother said. "_What_?"

Alistair felt as shocked as Morrigan sounded. Flemeth wanted to send her mage daughter with them? Why? It was obvious she didn't want to go, either.

"You heard me, girl. The last time I looked, you had ears," Flemeth cackled at her own joke.

"Thank you, but if Morrigan doesn't wish to join us –" Aedan began.

Flemeth cut him off. "Her magic will be useful. Even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get past the horde."

Well, when she put it that way, it didn't sound like a _completely_ terrible idea, Alistair thought. He'd been able to feel the horde growing larger and slowly surrounding them on all sides over the past few days, which is part of why he'd been getting so anxious waiting. He didn't know the Wilds well enough to know what paths to take to get around all the darkspawn. If Morrigan did, they might just survive long enough to get to the nearest town. As long as she was willing to do so, anyway.

"Have I no say in this?" Morrigan demanded angrily.

"You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years," Flemeth retorted. "Here is your chance. As for you, Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives."

"Very well, we'll take her with us," Aedan said.

Alistair frowned. While he agreed in theory, he still found he couldn't agree without some protest. "Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but won't this add to our problems? Out of the Wilds, she's an apostate."

Flemeth turned a truly frightening glare on him. "If you do not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on that tower."

"Point taken," Alistair conceded meekly, and he saw Ayla's lips twitch in amusement.

Morrigan, however, didn't seem so ready to concede. "Mother, this is not how I wanted this, I am not even ready –"

Once again, Flemeth cut her off. "You must be ready. Alone, these three must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I."

Was that her reason for helping them? Alistair wondered. He supposed it made sense. Even a powerful mage could only stand for so long against a horde. But why them? Couldn't she have saved Duncan or some of the others? Or Cailan? Maybe they'd have been too hard to reach, in the middle of battle? He wanted to ask Flemeth all these questions, but he didn't think she'd give him a straight answer, especially since he'd probably pissed her off with his apostate remark. So he kept his mouth shut.

"I understand," Morrigan said at last, sounding defeated.

"And you, Wardens?" Flemeth turned to them. "Do _you_ understand? I give you that which I value above all else in this world. I do this because you must succeed."

"She won't come to harm with us," Aedan promised solemnly. He looked almost pleased at the thought of Morrigan joining them, Alistair noted.

Morrigan sighed. "Allow me to get my things, if you please."

They all nodded. Morrigan disappeared back in the hut for a moment, then came back out with a pack. She turned to look at them all. "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens. I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. Tis not far and you will find much you need there. Or if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours." She shrugged as if she could care less.

Aedan grinned at her. "No, I prefer you speak your mind."

Alistair exchanged a glance with Ayla. She looked amused, and seemed to think the same thing as Alistair: that Aedan was rather looking forward to travelling with the witch. He seemed to be attracted to her, although it was beyond Alistair why he would be. Didn't he notice what a bitch she was?

Flemeth laughed. "You will regret saying that."

Morrigan turned to glare at her mother. "Dear sweet mother, you are so kind to cast me out like this. How fondly I shall remember this moment."

"Well, I always said if you want something done, do it yourself, or hear about it for a decade or two afterwards," Flemeth replied dismissively.

Alistair turned to look at Aedan. "I just . . . do you really want to take her along because her mother says so?" Of course he knew that wasn't the whole reason, but he was hoping to convince Aedan to leave her behind anyway.

Aedan shrugged. "We need all the help we can get."

Ayla nodded. "He's right, you know. That mage at the Tower was a big help, and right now, we're lacking a long range fighter. A mage could make a big difference."

Alistair sighed. Unfortunately, Ayla made perfect sense. They did need more help, and a mage would provide a strategic advantage. He was just having trouble getting over his dislike and distrust of both witches. "I guess you're right. The Grey Wardens have always taken allies where they could find them."

Morrigan turned her icy golden glare onto him. "I am so pleased to have your approval." Then she turned to her mother. "Farewell, Mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned down hut."

Flemeth waved her off. "Bah. Tis far more likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the Blight."

Alistair was shocked to see a look of actual hurt flash across Morrigan's face. Maybe she was human after all. "I - all I meant was . . ."

Flemeth's face softened. "Yes I know. Do try to have fun dear."

"We should probably get moving," Ayla pointed out. "Which way do we go?"

Morrigan sighed. After a last look at her mother and the hut, she began to walk towards a path off to their left that skirted around the edge of the swamp, motioning them to come after her. "Follow me."

The three of them fell into step after her, to begin their journey through the Wilds to Lothering. All Alistair could think about now was what would be in store for them when they reached the village. He hoped fate and the Maker would be a little kinder to them from this point on, though he didn't hold out any great hope for it.


	6. On the Road

_Author's Note: Okay, I was able to get the next chapter up sooner than I expected! It's a bit longer than I meant it to be, and we only barely reach Lothering by the end. But I felt the scenes in here were important to show some characterization, and I wanted to at least get them to Lothering before I stopped. This one is from Alistair's POV as well. I think I'll go back to Ayla for the next chapter, though I'm not entirely sure yet. In later chapters, I might mix between two or more POVs in one chapter, but for now I'm sticking to one person per. _

_Thanks once more to those who have favorited and followed so far - it means a lot that you're enjoying the story! Special thanks go to Padme4000, who did another review for me :). I'm glad you enjoyed the previous chapter from Alistair's POV, it's always a bit nerve-wracking to use somebody else's established character as your own. I'm also glad you're enjoying Ayla's incorporation into the story so far! As for the dialogue, I really like to leave the original dialogue to the original characters as much as possible, so I'm glad you appreciate that! Special thanks also to Arialla MacAllister, who has been kind enough to review as well! I hope I can live up to the promise you see so far! _

_Please R&R! I love feedback and opinions, and it helps encourage me to write faster!_

_Disclaimer: As always, Bioware owns original characters and their dialogue, I own Ayla and everything else. Forgot to put this in for the last chapter, oops!_

On the Road

Alistair had barely spoken a word since they'd been on the road to Lothering. It had been a day and a half since they'd left Flemeth's hut in the Wilds. He had found, to his dismay, that now that they were on the road and had a plan of action, that he could no longer dismiss his grief.

It seemed that his grief was now overwhelming him, since there were no distractions anymore. No concerns about whether his companions would wake up, or what they'd do when they did. He didn't even have to be responsible for getting them through the Wilds. Morrigan, he admitted grudgingly, was doing a fine job of getting them around the darkspawn on her own.

So, to his horror and shame, the first time he'd tried to speak upon leaving the hut, he'd felt tears threatening to spill out. He was a warrior. _Duncan_ would never have cried if he'd been one of the only Grey Wardens left. He was determined not to cry. However, he found the only way he could manage that was if he barely spoke to anybody. So, he'd taken to hardly talking at all, and if anyone addressed him directly, he'd use one word answers or gestures to answer and brush them off.

He felt bad about it, especially about brushing off Ayla, as she'd tried to talk to him twice yesterday, trying to cheer him up and make him laugh, before giving up. But he was equally determined not to shame himself as a man and warrior by crying in front of her, so he tried to avoid her as much as possible. After the second time, she'd seemed to understand, and hadn't tried to engage him in conversation again. Instead, she'd spent all their time on the road and in the camp last night talking with Aedan, or Morrigan on the rare occasions she was around.

Morrigan seemed to like to go off ahead of the party by herself a lot, to scout the paths ahead, or so she said. Alistair had wondered once or twice if she should really go off by herself in darkspawn-infested Wilds, but since she'd come back fine every time, he concluded she could take care of herself. Last night, she'd even brought back some rabbits for their evening meal, as well as some herbs, and he'd found himself wondering how she'd caught them, since she wasn't in possession of any weapons he'd seen. Aedan and Ayla had also caught some game when they'd gone hunting, so between that, and the few loaves of bread and wheels of cheese Alistair had still had in his pack that Flemeth had apparently rescued, they'd actually had enough food to sustain all of them.

That wouldn't last, though, Alistair knew. They'd used up virtually all of the extra supplies he'd had, and Aedan had not had any food in his pack, just some money, weapons, and healing supplies. Ayla had not had a pack at all, and most of what Morrigan had was herbs used for healing or lyrium potions to sustain her magic. Alistair did have some money, a hundred silver pieces from his own Warden allowance, as well as what he'd picked up in the tower. Aedan had also managed to collect a few hundred silver pieces between escaping his former home and the tower, but neither of the women had any money.

They were going to need more money – a lot more money, Alistair knew. Besides the fact that it would take a lot of money to feed himself and Aedan, due to their vast Grey Warden appetites, there was also the matter of bolstering their healing supplies and their armor. They were either going to need to repair what armor he and Aedan had, or replace it altogether, as both their sets of splintmail had holes and damage from the darkspawn arrows. Besides that, he was also determined to get some sort of armor for Ayla. They were going to have to find a way to make some money in Lothering.

He glanced around at his companions as they traipsed along the road. They were getting close to Lothering – they should be able to make it there before dark. Morrigan was, for once, with the rest of the group. She and Aedan were in the lead at the moment, while he and Ayla took up the rear. He appreciated the fact that Ayla had been walking next to him for the last few hours, in a show of silent support. He knew he was going to have to start talking soon. After all, he'd have to bring up the discussion of money and what they were going to do for supplies.

Just as he was thinking that, and thinking that maybe he could talk right now without his grief overwhelming him, he noticed that Ayla looked distinctly disturbed. She was walking along the dirt road they were currently on, continually scanning the horizon, her hands tight on the hilts of her swords. He couldn't help but pick out the anxiety in her gaze and the fact that she looked like a distinctly ruffled cat.

"Ayla." He kept his voice low, and even still she almost jumped, before visibly forcing herself to relax and look up at him questioningly. "Is something the matter?" He was proud of himself; he'd gotten the entire sentence out without even feeling like he was going to tear up.

She looked around again. "No – yes – I don't know. I'm not used to this . . . darkspawn thing. It's so unnaturally quiet around here – and the _smell_ – I'm finding it very difficult to relax. This isn't what I'm used to." She sounded almost annoyed at herself for letting her agitation show.

Alistair pondered her words as they walked. It was true that the wilderness around them was unnaturally silent, devoid of any normal wildlife noises one would experience. The darkspawn and the taint tended to do that. He was a little surprised she'd remarked on the smell – he couldn't recall smelling anything especially out of the ordinary on this section of the road.

Maybe he was just used to it, though. He had to admit that the silence no longer disturbed him, as in his past six months with the Grey Wardens, he'd spent as much time in darkspawn-infested wilderness as not. It was a little disconcerting to realize that he'd started to think of the absence of the life as normal, and was no longer bothered by it.

"I know – and I'm sorry," he said at last. He finally decided to say something he'd intended to say when they got to Lothering. "You know, I won't blame you if you decide you don't want to help any longer. The stakes are a lot higher now, and the odds of success a lot lower. I know this isn't what you agreed to when you asked to help."

He looked down at her, secretly hoping, though it was selfish, that she still wanted to come. She had turned her head to look up at him, and he was surprised to see a little bit of hurt and anger cross her features.

"Do you really think I would abandon you now?" she asked quietly, her voice deliberately even as though to keep anger out of it. "If anything, you need my help far more now than you did before. In fact, I rather think this is the reason why I'm here, because now you need help anywhere you can manage to get it. And I made the deal – on my _honor_, as a warrior, to help you end the Blight. I intend to hold up my end of the bargain, if you intend to hold up yours." She pierced him with an intense gaze.

He held up his hands defensively. He hadn't realized the question would anger her so much, although the fact that she'd stressed the word honor hadn't escaped him. He realized it might've sounded a little bit like he'd questioned her honor. "Of course I intend to hold up my end of the bargain, if we get through this alive! I just – wanted to be fair to you, since this is a far more complicated situation than you first expected, or agreed to. I'm sorry if I offended you – I didn't mean to."

She seemed to relax, and even gave him a wry grin. "Apology accepted. And, to be fair, may I point out that you have no idea how complicated holding up your end of the bargain might be?"

He actually found himself chuckling before he stopped in shock. _Did I just do that?_ Apparently, she had succeeded in sufficiently distracting him from his grief. Maybe he'd be able to deal with this after all. He smiled down at her, in thanks and in agreement. "I suppose that's true. Who knows, you might end up owing _me_ after all this is done."

The answering smile that broke across her face nearly took his breath away. It made lights dance in her green eyes. "We'll see who owes who once this is all over with. But I _am_ sticking with you until the end."

"I am relieved to hear it, my lady." He gave her a mocking bow, though in truth he _was_ very relieved to hear that she was going to stay.

It was at that moment he felt the familiar and sickening tingle along the base of his neck and down his spine that meant darkspawn were nearing. He turned his head to look down the road, at the same time as Ayla did. "Darkspawn approaching!"

As soon as he said it, he heard the sound of barking. Suddenly, a gigantic mabari war hound came running down the road towards them. Just as Alistair was putting his hand to his sword, the hound screeched to a stop in front of Aedan, tongue lolling, and wagged his tail.

"Striker!" Aedan was down on his knee in an instant, wrapping his arms around the dog's thick neck. It gave him a swipe of the tongue alongside his neck in return.

"No time for that!" Alistair warned as he drew his sword. A band of darkspawn had come charging down the road following the dog.

He ran past Aedan and Morrigan, shield and sword out. Ayla was at his side, keeping pace easily. Aedan straightened up, and moved out to Alistair's right, as he'd done in the tower. The hound, Striker, streaked past them and flung itself at the first approaching genlock, which went down with a shriek under a hundred and fifty pounds of mabari. A bolt of lightning shot past them and struck the next approaching genlock, lighting it up with electricity.

Alistair took point, as he'd done in the tower, knowing that it made the most tactical sense, as he was the biggest and the only one with a shield. He rammed the first one he saw with said shield, knocking it easily to the ground. Before he could even finish it off with his sword, Ayla was already there, separating its head from its shoulders.

They continued on in that fashion, he providing a distraction and knocking down the enemy as much as possible, while Ayla took advantage of their distraction. Aedan and his hound pursued a similar course of action, while Morrigan continued her offensive magic from behind them. It was a help, Alistair had to admit, although he could've sworn once or twice the bolts got rather closer to hitting _him_ than they should have. Between the four of them and the hound, however, they made fairly short work of the darkspawn.

Alistair had to admit to feeling distinctly more like himself by the time they'd finished the battle. Fighting was something that had always cleared his mind. They all wiped off and re-sheathed their weapons, and Striker trotted back over to Aedan, tail wagging again.

"Good boy," Aedan murmured, wrapping an arm around the dog's neck again. "You must have found your way out of the Wilds and back to me, huh?" The dog licked his face again and barked in response.

Alistair was a little surprised at Aedan's reaction, until it suddenly dawned on him that the hound was likely the only thing Aedan had left of his family and former life. With all that had happened at Ostagar, Alistair had nearly forgotten that Aedan had lost as much – if not more – than he had. He felt ashamed for his reaction over the last day and a half all over again. Aedan had been holding it together much better than him.

Ayla came over to Aedan and Striker. "What a handsome dog and good fighter you are." She knelt in front of the dog, offering her hand. "My name is Ayla, it is my honor to meet you."

Striker turned from his master, sniffed her hand, barked, and then plopped a massive paw into her outstretched hand. She shook it gravely, and the dog wagged its short stub of a tail again. She let his paw down gently before standing up and patting the dog on his head.

Alistair noted that Aedan was staring at her in outright amazement. He knew that mabari imprinted themselves on one person – in this case Aedan – and while they could still be friendly with other people, it usually required their master's say-so first. Ayla had managed to somehow effortlessly charm the dog._ Just like she's done to you,_ he thought to himself wryly.

"Does this mean we'll have this mangy beast following us about now? Wonderful," Morrigan's tone as she came up to the others was completely scathing, as usual.

"Hey, he's not mangy!" Alistair protested. Partly because he himself had always wanted a mabari, but never had the opportunity, and partly just to disagree with Morrigan. She hadn't resisted any opportunity to needle him so far, even though he'd avoided responding to her until now.

"Indeed," Ayla agreed, smiling down at the dog. "He's a brave warrior, and sure to be a big help in our fight."

Striker barked and danced around in agreement. Aedan stood up again, smiling the most genuine smile Alistair had seen on him so far. "It is good to have you back, old friend. I am glad you found your way to us alive." Aedan turned to Morrigan. "Are we nearly there now?"

Morrigan sighed heavily, as if realizing she was entirely alone in her dislike of the dog. "Indeed, tis only a couple more hours down this road. We should continue moving. It would be best to reach Lothering by nightfall."

They continued down the road past the darkspawn corpses, now with one extra party member. Alistair felt better than he had since waking up in the hut, and began to hope he might be able to manage his grief.

True to Morrigan's word, they spotted Lothering on the horizon inside of a couple of hours. The dirt road they were on turned into a stone highway of sorts as it got closer to the town, which served almost as a bridge just above and to the west of the bulk of the town.

As they got closer to the archway of stone and the stairs that led down into the town, they noticed that the way ahead was blocked by a band of men, surrounded by piles of boxes and carts. One man stood out in front of the others, clearly the leader. As they drew even closer, Alistair saw a dead body lying against the stone wall to the side.

He felt his fists tighten in anger. "Highwaymen, praying on those fleeing the darkspawn," he whispered to Ayla, who was still at his side.

Before she could respond, the man out in front hailed them. "Look, more travellers to attend to. This one looks like the leader." He addressed Aedan, who had remained in front. His regal bearing, well-crafted, if holey, armor and gleaming sword practically screamed nobleman, so it was no wonder the bandit thought he was the leader, Alistair mused. Not that he minded. He'd rather leave the leadership of this whole endeavour to someone else. He didn't want the ultimate responsibility for the Blight and everyone's lives on him, or he really would have a breakdown.

A big, dim-witted looking man next to the falsely jovial leader spoke up. There were a few more men behind these two. All of them wore leather armor, and were rather scruffy looking. Typical bandits, and Alistair didn't think they would pose any great threat to their group. "These don't look like them others. Maybe we should let them pass."

"Oh, please don't," Ayla drawled. "It would be _so_ much more interesting if you tried to get in our way."

Alistair looked down at her in surprise. Her hands were on her swords, and she was practically vibrating with her eagerness to draw them. Her beautiful green eyes were gleaming with anticipation. While he wouldn't mind disposing of the bandits himself, as he thought that what they were doing, preying on the desperation and fear of the refugees fleeing the darkspawn, was the lowest thing one person could do to another, he wasn't anticipating the fight with the same whole-hearted glee she seemed to be employing. However, he found himself surprisingly aroused by her reaction, which he didn't think was strictly healthy either.

"They are fools to get in our way. I say teach them a lesson," Morrigan agreed with Ayla, crossing her arms disdainfully.

"Now is that any way to greet someone!" the bandit leader exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "Tsk tsk tsk. A simple ten silvers and you're free to move on."

Alistair looked towards Aedan, wondering what he would do. Aedan placed one hand, ever so casually, on the hilt of his greatsword. "You should listen to your friend. We're not refugees." The threat in his voice was clear.

"What did I tell you?" The big one spoke up. "No wagons, and they all look armed."

The bandit leader shook his head, clearly exasperated. "The toll applies to everyone. That's why it's a toll, and not say, a refugee tax."

"Oh right. Even if you're no refugee you still gotta pay," the big one agreed, as though this were a brilliant idea.

Alistair looked at the band of bandits, wondering if they were suicidal. They were willing to face down three armed warriors, a woman who was obviously a mage, and a mabari hound for ten silvers? Well, if they wanted to die, it wasn't really his problem, Alistair supposed.

"Forget it, we're not paying." Aedan's voice now held an edge of anger to go along with the threat, and Striker started growling.

The bandit leader shook his head mournfully, as if _they_ were the ones with a death wish. "Well, I can't say I'm pleased to hear that. We have rules, you know."

The big one nodded, drawing his sword. "Right, we get to ransack your corpse then, those are the rules."

"You can certainly try," Aedan replied, before drawing his own sword.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Ayla shot past him, taking a flying leap at the big bandit, swords first. The man was so startled; he didn't even swing his sword in time. As with the ogre, she struck him full in the chest, knocking him backwards. She yanked her swords out and finished the job with a ruthless stroke.

His heart in his throat, Alistair had shot after her, mindful of her armor-less state. It was fortunate he had, because he was able to block the sword of another bandit on his shield that had been swinging straight for her unprotected back. He pivoted so that he was in front of Ayla, protecting her from the others, as he thrust his shield forward to knock the bandit off balance. He began to engage the man in attack.

The battle was joined behind him. Aedan was fighting with the bandit leader, Striker had taken down one of the others, and Morrigan had cast a freezing spell on a fourth one. There was one more bandit remaining who was climbing up on top of a crate to start shooting his bow; however, Ayla had leapt up after him. It didn't take long for Alistair and the others to finish off the bandits. While they could certainly pose trouble for refugees, none of the bandits had anywhere near the level of fighting experience they did.

The bandit leader had attempted to surrender when he realized all his men were dead. At least, Alistair thought he had. He'd stopped fighting Aedan and held up his sword, but before he could say whatever he'd been about to, Ayla had leapt down from the crate where she'd dispatched the archer and run him through with both swords. Aedan had merely shrugged, apparently undisturbed at this turn of events, and Morrigan had looked almost pleased.

Alistair couldn't quite decide his own reaction as they all stood for a moment catching their breath. On the one hand, he was a little surprised at Ayla's ruthlessness and careless disregard for her own safety in fighting the bandits. On the other hand, as she stood there, face flushed and chest heaving from her exertions, eyes aglow, he couldn't recall ever being more aroused in his life. There had to be something wrong with that, he thought. But at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to yank her in his arms and kiss her senseless. He was probably seconds away from doing just that when Aedan's voice brought him back to his senses.

"Search the bodies," Aedan directed. He was already crouched down next to the bandit leader, rifling through his pockets and satchel. "We need all the money and supplies we can get."

Alistair took a deep breath, steadying himself before he knelt next to the bandit he'd killed. They all went through the bandits' belongings, looting all the money, health poultices and other supplies they could find. The crates they decided to leave; they wouldn't be able to carry those along anyway. Once they'd finished, Aedan directed them to continue on towards the stairs leading down off the highway to Lothering.

Ayla was back to her normal self, Alistair noted as they approached the stairs. Or what he knew as her normal self, anyway. He had to remind himself he didn't really know her that well at all. She'd found an intact pack among the bandits' supplies that she'd decided to use as her own, and had it slung over her shoulder. She'd also liberated some of the bandits' weapons, saying that they could sell them in town, which Alistair admitted the wisdom of. He'd decided that at some point, when they had a chance to talk alone, he was going to ask her about her reaction to the bandits, among other things. But now was not the time for that.

They all stopped as they reached the stairs leading down to Lothering, taking in the view of the settlement below. It was currently packed to the brim with people and tents, far busier than when Alistair had last passed this way. He decided a little of his old humor was called for. He spread his arms out to indicate the view below. "Well, there it is. Lothering, pretty as a painting."

Morrigan snorted. "Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble I take it?"

"Morrigan," Ayla snarled in warning. Alistair turned to look at her, surprised she'd made the snarl so realistic. Her voice was normally quite light and pleasant. He was also a little pleased she was standing up for him, and that Morrigan looked fairly shocked at this fact. But he'd had quite enough of the witch.

"Is my being upset so hard to understand?" He snapped in return. Now that he'd found he could speak without the choking grief, it was time to let the witch have it. "Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"

Morrigan crossed her arms and smirked at him. "Before or after I stopped laughing?"

Alistair groaned to himself. He thought her flash of hurt back at the hut meant she might be a little human. Now he could see he'd been entirely wrong. "Right, very creepy, forget I asked."

"Enough!" Aedan snapped, striding in between the two of them. "What did you want to talk about, Alistair?"

"His navel, I suspect," Morrigan taunted. "He certainly has been contemplating it for long enough."

Alistair scowled at her. "Oh, I get it, this is the part where we're shocked to discover how you've never had a friend in your entire life."

"I can be friendly when I desire to. Alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so."

Alistair was about to make a bristling comment to this last remark when Ayla laid a hand on his arm. He swore he could feel the touch burning him through his splintmail as he looked at her. She shook her head at him, seeming to be resigned to the fact that Morrigan was not going to stop being a bitch. "It's not worth it, Alistair. But she's right, you have been very quiet."

Alistair sighed, covering her hand with his own. "You're right, I'm sorry." He didn't offer an explanation, however, too embarrassed to discuss it in front of Morrigan, of all people. Instead, he turned to Aedan. "Anyway, I thought we should talk about where we intend to go first."

Aedan arched a brow. "You have some thoughts on that point, Alistair?"

"This should be good," Morrigan mumbled acidly.

Alistair shot a glare at her, but left it alone. "I think what Flemeth suggested is the best idea. These treaties . . . have you looked at them?"

Aedan nodded. "Yes, I have. I read them over at the camp last night."

Encouraged by the fact that Aedan was listening so far, Alistair continued. "There are three main groups that we have treaties for: the Dalish elves, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi. I also still think that Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first."

Ayla nodded in agreement. She had since taken her hand away, and Alistair found that he sorely missed it. "If you know this Arl, that might be the wisest thing to do. We might have a better chance of getting immediate help from him than the other groups, unless someone has a personal tie to any of these other ones you mentioned." She looked at the others, but they shook their heads in response.

Aedan crossed his arms, seeming to consider all the points made as he gazed out over Lothering. "Why are you leaving it up to me?" he asked at last, turning back to Alistair. "You're the senior Warden, shouldn't you be in charge?"

Alistair had been dreading this question, especially in front of Morrigan. He'd hoped Aedan would just take over the leadership without question. He was a nobleman's son, after all, born and bred to lead. Whereas Alistair himself had been born and bred to follow. He was not about to try to change that now, when so much was at stake.

He sighed. "Maybe I am the senior Warden, but only by a few months. I don't know much more than you do. You've been taught to lead, I haven't. So I'm leaving the leading up to you, since I don't know where we should go. If you have any questions about the Wardens or want advice, I'll help, but I'll do whatever you decide."

"Now _that_ is unsurprising," Morrigan drawled.

"Oh, shut up for once," Ayla snapped at her. She turned to Aedan. "I'll help in any way I can too. I have led troops before, but I know nothing about what's going on in this country, so I can't be of much help with the final decisions. But, like Alistair said, I'll be happy to provide my opinion if you'd like."

Aedan nodded. "I appreciate the sentiment, both of you. All right, Alistair. I'll take the lead on the Blight. But I'd like everybody to offer their opinions, and I'll try to take everybody's advice into consideration before I make final decisions. Do you know where all these people are, Alistair? I'm afraid I wasn't the best geography student."

Alistair sighed in relief. The burden of leadership was off him, and better yet, Aedan sounded like he'd be a fair leader that Alistair could respect. He almost sounded like Duncan, in fact. "I do actually know where they are. Duncan and I talked it over after the Joining."

He told Aedan the locations – that the circle of Magi was probably the closest, to the north by Lake Calenhad, just past Redcliffe. The Brecilian Forest to the east was where they could find a clan of Dalish elves, though how long exactly that would take would be anybody's guess, since the nomadic elves never stayed in one place very long. Finally, the dwarves in Orzammar were far to the north, in the Frostback Mountains, and would probably take many weeks to reach.

"All right," Aedan said, clapping his hands together after Alistair finished. "I think we should go to Redcliffe first. It's the closest, and anyway, as Ayla said, our chances of getting aid are probably highest there. We'll decide which of the treaties to fill after Redcliffe. I'm ready to get going if the rest of you are."

Everybody nodded in agreement, and Alistair felt relieved. Not only was Aedan taking his advice, but he was sure that Arl Eamon would be of great help to them, and would know exactly what they should do. He grinned at Aedan. "Fair enough. Let's head into the village whenever you're ready."

Aedan led the way down the stairs into the village, and the rest of them followed. Alistair was relieved that everything was going well so far, and could only hope that their trip into Lothering was uneventful. At the very least, he now had two people with him that he felt he could trust. Maybe things would turn out okay after all.

_Second A/N: I decided that Alistair's uncharacteristic quietness on the way to Lothering is simply a way to hold in his grief. Personally, I hate crying in front of others, and I find if I avoid talking when I feel all teary-eyed, I can avoid crying. I decided Alistair must be the same. But once he's had a little time, and has something else to focus on (Ayla's worry and the battle) he's able to go back to himself for the most part. Also, I changed up the original dialogue between him and Aedan a bit here. I felt that he and the Warden character never really actually address the whole "Alistair isn't going to lead" thing until much later. I thought it made more sense for them to establish the boundaries of their relationship right away, so I decided to do that here. Hopefully this makes sense to everybody! _


	7. Lothering

_Author's Note: So, I surprised myself by already finishing another chapter. Don't get used to this frequent of updates though! ;) This story is apparently going to be a lot longer than I anticipated, even with skipping some of the conversations and splitting the party members up. There's still a lot of stuff that I want to cover, and the practical part of me that's striving for believability can't ignore the necessity for armor, money, supplies, etc. I'd hoped to get Lothering all into one chapter, but didn't quite manage, as it was getting a lot longer than I anticipated. So I stopped in what I hope is a good place. And I'm afraid I won't be able to skip all major conversations and events, even though I know this is all old hat to most of you. I really want to show Ayla's take on things as much as possible. Hopefully that doesn't annoy anyone too much!_

_Thanks as always to those who've favorited and followed, it means a lot! Special thanks go again to Padme4000, who was kind enough to offer another review, and Kira Tamarion, who also gave me a review! As I figured out how to reply directly to both of you, I won't mention details here, but thanks very much for the kind words, it is very encouraging! I would love for more of you to offer your questions, comments, concerns, thoughts, whatever! Thanks and enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns Thedas, etc._

Lothering

Ayla followed behind the others as they made their way down the stone stairs into the town. She'd heard the others call it Lothering. It was like any other town she could ever recall seeing – lots of cramped wooden houses, with some bigger houses and stone structures among the bunch. Directly across from them, surrounded by a stone wall, was what appeared to pass for a church here. The town, however, was overflowing with anxious refugees and tents. Not to mention, it stank, especially to her over-sensitive nose. It was like a smell of sweat, unwashed people, dirt, refuse, and she even swore she could smell a little desperation.

Aedan halted in front of them, and turned to face them. "We should probably go over what we plan to do here. We won't be able to leave tonight; it's too close to nightfall already. We'll need to stock up on supplies, and find a place to stay for the night, if possible."

Alistair nodded in agreement. "We'll need more money, too. We only have a few hundred silver, and we're going to need a lot of supplies, not to mention armor repairs or new armor. Ayla, I think we should pick up some armor for you as well."

Ayla frowned. She didn't necessarily disagree with this. She had no armor at the moment. Usually she only wore a light shirt of chainmail beneath her tunic, and occasionally bracers. But when she'd been pulled through the portal, she hadn't had even that much on, as she'd only been intending on a short walk. It was just lucky that she'd had her swords and daggers with her, as she almost never went anywhere unarmed. However, she didn't relish the thought of wearing the kind of armor that Alistair and Aedan wore. Aside from the possibility of it dulling her powers, she also knew she wouldn't be able to fight as effectively in it, as her style depended mainly on speed and agility.

"I'm not sure about that," she hedged. "I don't think I could fight effectively in anything like that." She waved her hand at the splintmail suits both Alistair and Aedan wore.

Alistair shook his head, looking down at her with concern in his warm hazel eyes. She knew why he was pressing the issue; it was the same reason he'd charged after her in the bandit fight, taking the blow meant for her on his shield. He wanted to protect her. Ordinarily, she would have been irritated, but for some reason, she found it sweet coming from him. "I wouldn't want you to have the same type of armor as us, anyway. We can get you leather armor meant for rogues; it's designed to be light and easy to move it in, but it will still be better than a tunic for stopping arrows."

"I agree with Alistair," Aedan spoke up. "Aside from the benefits of having armor, you'll blend in better than you are now. No one wears clothing like you have on in Ferelden, and the heraldry on your tunic is an unknown one. It'll be best if we can find you something else."

Ayla sighed. She couldn't argue with that reasoning. She hadn't seen anyone wearing a similar outfit to hers, either in the camp at Ostagar or here. It appeared that if a person in Ferelden wasn't wearing some type of armor, then they were wearing simple woven clothing, dresses or tunics and leggings. Additionally, no one wore tunics and leggings with weapons. Besides, maybe leather armor wouldn't be so bad. "All right, if you can find me some of that leather armor, I'll give it a try."

Alistair smiled at her, the first full and genuine smile she'd seen from him in the last couple of days. It made her heart skip a beat. She was relieved that he was talking again. While she understood the need to separate from others while grieving, she found that she'd greatly missed bantering with him, and she had so much she wanted to know about him still. Aedan was a good man, as well, but she didn't find him nearly as much fun to talk to as Alistair. It would also be a lot easier to proceed with her plan to seduce Alistair if he was talking to her, she thought wryly.

"We also need to find out as much information as we can," Aedan was continuing as he scanned the crowds around them. "We need to know what's going on in Ferelden now that the king and most of the army are dead. It'll be easier to proceed with as much information as possible."

"I would suggest questioning that man over there," Morrigan said, gesturing with her hand to a man standing guard several yards ahead of them, blocking the dirt road leading towards the rest of the town. He was dressed in the armor that Ayla had seen on the Templars; the full plate with the purple skirting around the bottom. "He seems to be in charge of directing the refugees."

Aedan nodded, and gestured to them all to follow as he closed the distance between them and the Templar. The man hailed him as he got closer, stating that there was no more room for refugees. Aedan brushed his worries off, explaining that they weren't refugees and were just passing through.

He proceeded to question the man about who was in charge in Lothering. It appeared that the local lord, whom they referred to as a Bann, had left the town, taking all of the local army with him to join Teyrn Loghain. This left only the Templars to guard the townsfolk and run things. When asked who was now in charge, the Templar suggested they either speak to his commander, Ser Bryant, in the Chantry, or Elder Miriam. Both were apparently trying to do their best to keep the town running in the lord's absence.

Aedan wound up the conversation, and then directed them all down the road a little further. "It looks like there's a merchant's wagon just down the road here. Let's get as many supplies as we can first."

Ayla followed him and the others as they continued down the road, towards the wagon. The man who was standing next to it was arguing with a woman in pink robes emblazoned with a sunburst. Ayla had seen similar robes on the women preaching about the Maker in the camp at Ostagar. She guessed this meant the woman was a priestess. A few others had started to gather around to listen to the exchange.

As they got within earshot, it became apparent that the priestess was arguing with the merchant over his charges. It sounded like he was in possession of most of the supplies, and was charging exorbitant amounts to the desperate refugees. The merchant claimed this was his right, and both were getting increasingly heated. As the group approached, with Aedan in the lead, they pulled him into the argument.

The priestess wanted Aedan to force the man to lower his prices, or better yet, not charge anything at all, while the merchant offered a hundred silver pieces to Aedan if he'd drive the woman off.

"It's so nice to see everyone working together in a crisis! It warms the heart!" Alistair said sarcastically. Ayla couldn't help but smile; she could see his point. It seemed like no one in this country was interested in working together in the face of the Blight.

She watched as Aedan, with impressive skill, smoothed the priestess' ruffled feathers and convinced the merchant that he could lower his prices and still make a profit. The crowd dispersed once Aedan began trading with the merchant.

"So we have come to solve every squabble in the village personally? My, but the darkspawn will be impressed," Morrigan said acidly, folding her arms as she watched. Ayla noted that despite her harsh words, she still seemed to be impressed with Aedan in general.

The two women watched as Alistair and Aedan spoke with the merchant. Upon finding out that there was no blacksmith or armorer currently present in Lothering, they bought new sets of armor for themselves, persuading the merchant to pay them a small amount for their damaged armor. They also sold him the weapons Ayla had gotten off the bandits, as well as some other supplies they'd looted from the bandits. In return, they bought a suit of leather armor, as well as various food supplies, healing poultices, and the supplies to make more poultices.

Once done, the two men donned their new sets of armor, and distributed the supplies among the party's packs. Ayla wore nothing but smallclothes beneath her tunic, so she stored her new armor in her pack for the moment, promising to change into it when she found somewhere private to do so. Honestly, she wouldn't have minded giving Alistair a show, but she didn't want the whole town to witness it as well.

"We should check the Chantry board, see if they have any job postings," Alistair said once they were ready to move on. "We barely have any money left now."

"Good idea," Aedan agreed, and the party headed over to the stone wall surrounding the Chantry. There was a large board just outside the stone wall, covered in bits of paper. A man in robes stood next to it, along with a small child. The man kept saying odd things, almost as though he were talking in riddles or verse, and Ayla didn't understand it. None of the other party members commented, though, so she left it alone.

After looking over the bits of paper, Aedan pulled one off. "This sounds promising. There's a group of bandits plaguing the outskirts of the town, and they're paying a decent amount to anyone that can take them out."

"Well, if they want to pay us to kill bandits, we can hardly turn _that_ down." Ayla smiled with savage glee, her hands tightening on her sword hilts. Ever since her father had been killed, she couldn't help the unhealthy rage she felt over bandits in general. Logically, she knew that every set she came across were not the same as the ones who'd killed her father. Nevertheless, as soon as she came across any bandits, she seemed to lose all her control, and became more than happy to dispatch them by any means necessary.

She saw Alistair looking at her with concern and confusion. "Um . . . right. Well, we _could_ use the money, and we can't leave them to rob these poor people."

She knew he didn't get it. She'd seen the conflicting emotions on his face after she'd killed the bandit leader. He hadn't necessarily approved of the fact that she hadn't given the man a chance to surrender. She'd been too overwhelmed with fury to even stop, however. She also hadn't missed the fact that he'd wanted her. She couldn't fail to notice the lust stamped on his face, or the fact that those hazel eyes of his had darkened with desire. She could definitely get used to that look.

She could also get used to the fact that him merely _looking_ at her had sent a spark of lust all through her body. She couldn't ever remember reacting to a man in such a way. Unfortunately, it hadn't been the time or the place, what with the darkspawn close behind and refugees everywhere. So she hadn't closed the distance between them like she'd wanted to. She wasn't used to denying herself a little post-battle exercise, though. She _was_ going to act on it eventually. She might even tell him why she felt the way she did about bandits. But not right now.

"We'll wait until tomorrow to take care of the bandits." Aedan had tucked the paper away, and his tone brooked no disagreement. Though Ayla would've liked to go after the bandits right now, she could wait. They'd still be just as dead tomorrow. "Right now, we should gather information, get something to eat, and find a place to sleep for the night. I think it might be faster if we split up. Alistair, how about you and Ayla go talk to Ser Bryant in the Chantry? Morrigan and I will go try to find this Elder Miriam. There's a tavern across the bridge. We can meet there after we're done."

Alistair nodded, and turned to Ayla. "Shall we, my lady?" He gave her that little mocking bow he seemed so fond of.

"Indeed, good ser." She swept him a teasing curtsy using her cloak in answer, and was pleased to see an amused glint in his eyes. "Lead the way."

Aedan shook his head at their antics, although he looked amused as well, before he turned and headed for the stone bridge to their left. Morrigan followed him across the bridge, which spanned a stream, to the other half of the town. Striker trotted after his master. Alistair headed for the entrance in the stone wall, and Ayla followed.

They headed up the stone stairs, and approached the large double doors at the front of the Chantry. Another Templar stood guard by them, but when Alistair told him they had business with Ser Bryant, he let them pass. Alistair pushed the doors open, and the two of them went inside.

It wasn't hard to pick out Ser Bryant. He was standing just inside the Chantry, wearing the customary Templar armor, issuing instructions to other Templars to keep the townsfolk safe for as long as possible. Alistair approached him, and Ayla stayed at his side, but stood back a little. She was more than happy to let Alistair deal with these Templars.

"Who might you be?" Ser Bryant asked as they stopped in front of him.

"I am the Grey Warden Alistair, and this is my companion Ayla."

Ayla saw the start of surprise that passed across the Templar's features. He didn't look pleased, she noted. "I see. I am Ser Bryant, commander of the Lothering Templars. Teyrn Loghain has declared all Grey Wardens traitors, responsible for the King's death. You know this, I hope?"

Shock and fury flitted across Alistair's face, and he clenched his fists. Ayla could only imagine how he must feel. She knew she'd be similarly furious if her Order were ever declared traitors to their country. "What? The Grey Wardens did no such thing. We would _never_ betray the King!"

Ser Bryant seemed to relax somewhat in the face of Alistair's shock and denial. He shrugged. "I don't believe the Grey Wardens would be as careless or malicious as the Teyrn claims, but either way, there it is. It is best you not linger, though, just in case. Do you have some business with me?"

Alistair still seemed to be struggling with his fury. Ayla laid a hand on his arm again. He looked down at her, almost as though he had forgotten she was there. "Leave it alone," she murmured. "There isn't anything you can do about it right now."

Alistair gave a terse nod, and relaxed his stance. She let go of his arm, and he turned back to Ser Bryant, asking questions about the current state of the town and what he knew about the results of the battle. During his talk with Ser Bryant, it came out that they'd dispatched the bandits, which seemed to impress the Templars. Ser Bryant insisted on rewarding them with some silver, and although Alistair seemed uncomfortable with it, he took it anyway. Ayla knew he was concerned about the state of their funds, and he had every right to be. It would take a lot of money to fuel this journey of theirs.

Finally, he ended the conversation with Ser Bryant, and they drew away a little. "You know," Alistair began, "they probably have some rooms in the Chantry here where you could change into your armor. We can check with the Sisters." He nodded down the aisle at the robed women gathered around the altar.

Ayla nodded in agreement. "That's probably a good idea. I might as well start blending in as soon as possible." She winked at him, and got a half-smile in response.

They began to make their way further into the Chantry. As they walked between the rows of pews, Ayla noticed another warrior to the side, poring over a tome on a table. He wasn't armored like the Templars, but rather in platemail, and bore a shield on his back with the heraldry of a white tower on top of red rocks. Alistair stopped in his tracks next to her. "Ser Donall – is that you?"

The man turned, and shock stamped across his bearded face as he saw who was behind him. "Alistair? By the Maker, how are you? I – I was certain you were dead!"

"Not yet, no thanks to Teyrn Loghain," Alistair replied bitterly.

Ayla leaned over and whispered, "While you're catching up with him, I'll go find a place to change." She didn't think there was any need for her to intrude on his reunion with his friend.

He nodded, and she left him to his conversation while she went over to one of the robed Sisters. After a quick discussion, the Sister took her to a small room with a cot to allow her to change. With the door closed, she quickly stripped out of her outfit and began to put on the armor. She was pleased to find once she was all done that it was actually fairly comfortable. It was a well crafted set of leathers that, once she'd done the laces, fit nicely to her body and allowed for ease of movement. She did a few experimental bends and twists and wasn't disappointed. In addition, it was hardened enough to allow a decent amount of protection, especially in comparison to her tunic.

She looked down at herself and grinned; it also showed more skin than her previous outfit. The top was low-cut and shaped to her form, leaving little of her to the imagination, and the bottom was skirted. Though it went down to her knees, there was still an expanse of bare leg between the bottom of the skirt and the tops of the new leather boots. She couldn't wait to see Alistair's reaction.

She stuffed her old clothing into her pack, because there was no way she was leaving it behind, even if she couldn't wear it currently. She put her armband back on, and strapped her swords back on as well, then left the room. She thanked the Sister for its use, and headed back over to Alistair. As she reached him, it became apparent that he was just wrapping up his conversation with Ser Donall. Ser Donall was saying something to the effect of returning to Redcliffe as soon as possible. So, he was a knight of Redcliffe, then. Hopefully that meant Alistair had gathered some more information.

"Yes, you're right, I should go as well." Alistair turned in her direction, his face troubled. When he saw her coming towards him, however, he stopped dead.

"Well, do you like it?" she asked impishly, turning in a circle to give him the full benefit.

His eyes swept up and down her body, lingering on the bare skin, before they shot back up to her face. She could see the desire in his eyes again that sent a flash of heat through her, but at the same time, a blush spread over his face, and he abruptly averted his eyes. Well, that just wasn't fair, she thought. She could deal with him being funny, sexy, and skilled. He shouldn't be allowed to be adorable when he blushed, on top of everything. How was a woman supposed to defend against that?

"I – I," he stammered. "I uh – I guess it looks suitable."

She considered teasing him further, but decided that would be too cruel. Instead, she switched to a more serious topic. "You looked troubled. What did your friend have to say?"

As soon as she mentioned it, his face fell, and he looked her in the eyes again. "Apparently, Arl Eamon has fallen ill. He's so ill that they're looking for the Sacred Ashes, which are said to cure any illness, in order to heal him. Most of the knights of Redcliffe are out looking for the ashes. It makes me believe we need to go to Redcliffe now more than ever."

"I'm sorry, Alistair, I know you were looking forward to seeing him again," she said gently. How much more was he going to have to deal with? "But we'll be heading for Redcliffe next, right? We can learn more once we get there." She paused, a thought occurring to her. "I wonder if this Loghain had something to do with his illness? It seems – well-timed."

Alistair looked sick for a second as he considered, then furious. "Do you think he really could have something to do with it? I don't understand what he thinks he's doing! Is now really the time to tear the country apart?"

She wished that she could do something more for him, and that thought disturbed her more than she cared to admit. "I'm afraid I don't have any answers. Maybe one day soon we can confront Loghain himself. We should probably go meet up with Aedan now."

He nodded wearily. "I suppose you're right."

They made their way out of the Chantry and across the bridge to the tavern in silence. Ayla wished she knew what to say; she'd never been that good at comforting words. She also knew too little about this world to offer better opinions. She was relieved as they approached the tavern to see Aedan and Morrigan waiting outside.

The four of them talked over what they'd found out in low voices. Aedan was equally furious to find out that the Grey Wardens had been labelled traitors, and concerned that the Arl was sick. He also mentioned how he and Morrigan had come across a person they called a "Qunari" that had been caged for murder and left there. He wanted to see if they could get the man released to help them fight, but they would have to ask the Revered Mother, who was the head of the Chantry, and apparently was in charge of his imprisonment.

Ayla thought it was a good idea to get him released. She didn't have a problem with executing someone if they'd committed a crime, but it should be quick and clean. Leaving someone to starve in a cage or to be torn apart by those darkspawn creatures was not a fate she thought anyone deserved. She and Alistair both agreed with Aedan that they should try to get him released, but they decided to talk to the Revered Mother the next day. According to Aedan, they'd have to go back to the Chantry to gather their reward for the job posting anyway, so they could take care of both at the same time, once the bandits were dispatched.

After they'd come to an agreement, they all headed to the doors of the tavern, Aedan in the lead. As they entered, Ayla noted that it was packed with people – pretty much standing-room only. There were two levels, and both were filled to capacity. It was also beyond warm and stuffy. She noticed almost right away as they entered that there was a group of five fully armed men standing by the bar, glaring at anyone who got too near. As the door swung closed behind them, the men turned and looked in their direction. She saw the recognition pass across their faces before they all stalked towards them.

"Look what we have here men, I think we've just been blessed," one of the men in the lead said, smirking at them.

"Uh oh. Loghain's men, this can't be good," Alistair murmured to her, his hand going to his sword hilt. The two of them were standing behind Aedan and Morrigan. She didn't miss Alistair's attempt to carefully angle himself in front of her, and wondered why she still wasn't annoyed by his misplaced need to try to protect her. Only her brother had ever tried to protect her this much, and it had always bothered her whenever he or anyone else even attempted it. Another puzzle involving Alistair she would have to work out.

"Didn't we spend all morning asking about two men by this very description?" Another of the men spoke up, gesturing to Aedan and Alistair. "And everyone said they hadn't seen either of them?"

The first man's eyes narrowed as his own hand went to his sword. "It seems we were lied to."

Ayla noticed out of the corner of her eye, a Chantry Sister approaching the men. She was pretty, with short red hair and light blue eyes, wearing the typical pink robes. However, unlike any of the Sisters Ayla had seen so far, she was carrying weapons. The woman aimed a charming smile at the men. "Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge."

The second man sent a sneering glance at the Sister. "They're more than that. Now stay out of our way, Sister. You protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them."

Aedan held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Now, now. What makes you think we're traitors?"

"Teyrn Loghain claims the Grey Wardens betrayed the king, or haven't you heard?" the first man shot back.

Aedan widened his eyes innocently, looking around the room. "Grey Wardens? Where?" Ayla bit her lip to keep from laughing. It was obvious that Loghain's men had been given a description of him and Alistair, yet he was almost making _her_ believe he couldn't possibly be a Warden.

"Enough talk," the man snarled, obviously not fooled as he drew his sword. "Take the Wardens into custody. Kill the Sister and anyone else that gets in your way!" All of the men drew their swords at his command.

"Right! Let's make this quick!" Aedan drew his sword as well, and Ayla and Alistair followed suit.

People in the tavern began screaming and running for cover, ducking out of the way as the battle joined, or fleeing out the door behind them. They followed their usual established pattern of Alistair and Aedan attracting the most attention, while Ayla used her speed to sneak around and finish off the men. Striker, as usual, took a man down by the throat, while Morrigan was restricting herself to shooting small bolts out of her staff at the men, apparently not wanting to use elemental magic indoors.

What surprised Ayla the most of all was that the Sister had joined in the fight – and she was _good_. She fought in a style similar to Ayla's, though she was using two small daggers rather than the longer swords that Ayla favoured, and seemed to be slightly hampered by her long robes. At any rate, with the skills of their party and the additional help of the Sister, it wasn't long before all of Loghain's men were lying dead, except for the one who'd ordered the attack. He was disarmed, with the point of Aedan's greatsword at this throat, begging for his life.

Had it been a bandit, Ayla would've finished him off herself. But this man was just a soldier, blindly following orders. So she sheathed her swords and leaned against the bar to watch what Aedan would do.

The Sister beamed as she sheathed her weapons as well. "Good, he's learned his lesson and we can all stop fighting now."

Aedan shot an incredulous glance at her, but said nothing in reply. He looked back at the blubbering soldier, his jaw working. Ayla could clearly see the fury sparking in his grey eyes, but then he sighed and lowered the sword point. "Take a message to Loghain – he'll pay for what he's done. We're coming for him."

The soldier nodded in relief and dashed for the tavern door, slamming it behind him in his haste. Everyone else sheathed their weapons as well. Ayla noticed Alistair's eyes searching until he found her, then the relieved smile he gave to see her unharmed, which she returned. She crossed the distance back over to their group, making her way to his side again.

The Chantry Sister had approached Aedan, smiling at him. Ayla noticed a light of interest in her eyes as she examined Aedan, which she didn't blame the woman for. Aedan _was_ good-looking, with his jet-black hair, piercing grey eyes, classically handsome features, and was nearly as tall, broud-shouldered and well-built as Alistair. For some reason, however, she personally didn't find him nearly as fascinating. "I apologize for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by and not help," the woman offered in a musical accent.

Aedan raised an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms. "So I see. Where does a Sister learn to fight like that?"

The Sister shrugged. "I wasn't born in the Chantry, you know. Many of us had more - colourful lives before we joined. Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay Sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering. Or I was."

"And is there something you wanted from us?" Aedan pressed.

"Those men said you're a Grey Warden. You will be battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do? I know after what happened, you'll need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along." Leliana crossed her arms and nodded her head firmly, her decision already made. Ayla had to admire her audacity. She hadn't asked to come; she was _telling_ them she was going with them. Bold move, really.

"What?" Alistair and Morrigan blurted at the same time.

Aedan controlled his reaction better, merely regarding Leliana with a skeptical look. "Why so eager to come with us?"

Leliana shrugged and said simply, "The Maker told me to."

"Can you . . . elaborate?" Aedan asked slowly.

For the first time, the woman's confidence looked shaken. Her gaze bounced over all of the party members. "I - I know that sounds absolutely insane, but it's true! I had a dream . . . a vision!"

Really? Ayla thought. That was interesting. It wasn't unusual in Fallor for people to be gifted with visions from time to time. It was the Goddess' way of guiding people in their fates. As such, she didn't doubt Leliana's sanity, only that she was telling the truth, but from the looks on everyone else's faces, they were definitely questioning her sanity.

This was confirmed her for when Alistair said in a low enough voice only she could hear, "More crazy? I thought we were all full up."

Ayla couldn't help the chuckle that slipped out. She was relieved he was making jokes again; she'd been afraid that hearing about the Arl's illness would cause him to withdraw. "Oh, come on now, crazy isn't always that bad, is it?" she teased in a whisper. He grinned in response.

Aedan, meanwhile, held up a hand to forestall Leliana saying anything further. "Give me a moment; I'd like to confer with my companions." Leliana nodded, and he turned back to the others. They all gathered close, keeping their voices low so she wouldn't hear.

"What do you think?" Aedan looked at each of them in turn. "She seems to be an archdemon short of a Blight."

Alistair nodded. "Yes, but she seems more 'Ooh, pretty colors!' than 'muahahah, I am Princess Stabbity! Stab, kill kill'!"

This time, Ayla burst into outright laughter, although she tried to stifle it with her hand. "Princess Stabbity?" she choked out. "Where did you come up with _that_?"

Alistair shot her a crooked grin. "It's my specialty to deliver witty one liners."

Aedan rolled his eyes. "If we could be serious for a moment: I agree that she doesn't seem to be dangerously crazy. And we could use the help."

"She does seem to be skilled," Ayla offered. "And I think she genuinely wants to help." Her instincts were normally quite good when it came to people and betrayal, and she didn't sense any of that from Leliana.

"Could I interject again?" Leliana asked timidly. They all turned back to look at her, and Aedan gestured for her to go ahead. "Look at the people here." She spread her arms to indicate the tavern, and probably all of Lothering. "They are lost in their despair, and this darkness, this chaos, will spread. The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are meant to do, is the Maker's work. Let me help." Her voice had gained in strength throughout the speech, and ended with a note of utmost confidence.

Aedan sighed, scrubbed a hand through his hair, and finally nodded. "Very well. I will not turn away help when it is offered."

Morrigan gave an exasperated sigh, apparently deciding to finally join in the conversation. "Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than Mother thought."

Leliana either didn't hear or decided to ignore her, instead beaming in gratitude at Aedan. "Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I will not let you down! Let me just go get my things from the Chantry, and I will rejoin you."

"We'll be here, getting something to eat," Aedan gestured over at the bar. "I don't suppose you know somewhere we can sleep for the night? It looks as though the Chantry and all the rooms here are full."

"Yes, every spare room in Lothering is full." Leliana appeared to be deep in thought, before her face brightened. "I know of a barn that was recently abandoned when the family fled! You could stay there. It doesn't have beds, but it has a roof."

"That sounds fine," Ayla said. They all had blankets, after all. Alistair had fortunately had a spare one he'd loaned her on the road. A barn would also likely have hay; it was bound to be more comfortable than sleeping on the ground. The others all nodded in agreement with her.

"Excellent!" Leliana beamed. "I will meet you back here shortly, and show you where the barn is!" She was out the door before they could question her further.

They all made their way to a table that had been vacated when people had started fleeing, and Aedan signalled a barmaid over to take their order, as more servants started to clean up the mess left behind from the battle. They all began to eat, relieved to have freshly cooked food for the first time in a few days.

True to her word, Leliana returned just as they were finishing up their meal. She was wearing a set of leather armor identical to what Ayla had on, and was carrying her own pack. In addition to the daggers she'd sported earlier, she also had a bow over her shoulder and a quiver of arrows strapped to her back. An archer, Ayla thought with approval. That was something they were lacking, and if she was any good, made the decision to bring her along that much more worth it.

They paid their tab, and then followed Leliana to the outskirts of the town, where she stopped in front of a rundown wooden barn. It was almost dark by the time they reached the barn, and the first stars were starting to appear. She pushed open the doors, and they all went inside. It was surprisingly clean inside, and as Ayla thought, there were piles of hay around the walls and in some of the stalls.

They all set down their things, and began to find places to sleep. "Don't forget, we have the bandits to take care of in the morning," Aedan said as he arranged his blanket. "After that, we'll wrap up any other business we have in Lothering and head for Redcliffe. I'd like to leave tomorrow afternoon if possible; I don't think the darkspawn are far behind us." He turned a questioning glance to Alistair.

Ayla looked over at Alistair too. He'd stopped arranging his own bedding, and had his head cocked to the side, his eyes blank, as though he were listening to something far away only he could hear. Apparently Aedan's powers hadn't developed enough for him to do whatever Alistair was doing. Finally, Alistair straightened up and looked at Aedan. "They're not far behind, no. We should have enough time to do what we need to tomorrow; but I expect that by the following night, they'll be here in Lothering."

Aedan looked grim. "We'll make it quick tomorrow, then. I'd like to put more distance than that between us and the horde. Get some sleep, we'll go after the bandits at dawn."

"I'll take first watch," Ayla offered. She could tell that Aedan had probably intended to, but he looked exhausted, and she wasn't tired yet. She was used to long days on the road.

Aedan looked surprised, but he nodded. "Thanks, I'd appreciate that. I'll take second watch then, if you don't mind waking me up."

Ayla nodded, and Alistair offered to take third watch. By tacit agreement, none of them had yet included Morrigan in the watch schedule, and it didn't seem like the time to trust Leliana with the watches yet either. The others all went to their corners to sleep, while Ayla took up a position by the door, keeping a lamp with her. She could hardly wait to fight the bandits tomorrow, and continue on this strange new journey that fate had presented her with. It was already proving to be far more interesting than she had anticipated.

_2nd A/N: I always thought it was strange that everyone that was after the Wardens seemed to ignore Alistair's existence in favor of the other Warden. Wouldn't Loghain have known more about Alistair - and wanted him dead a whole lot more for obvious reasons? So at any point when someone refers to the "Warden" I'm going to change it to include both Wardens. Makes more sense to me._


	8. Lothering Part 2

_Author's Note: Well I got a new chapter up sooner than I expected! The muse is really pushing me on this one and so I keep writing lol. This one is from Ayla's POV, and we finally get to the end of Lothering here. Next one is going to be from Alistair's POV. If anybody has a preference for POVs for certain events, please let me know and I'll try to accommodate. (IE if you want to see Brecilian Forest from Alistair's POV, or Orzammar from Ayla's POV, etc.) _

_As always, thanks to those who have favorited and followed so far, really glad you're enjoying the story! Special thanks as always goes to those who have submitted reviews, especially to Arialla MacAllister for her nice long review of Chapter 7 :). I would love it if more people could submit reviews, I'm like a kid at Christmas with those! Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns Thedas, I own Fallor._

Lothering, Part 2

While the others settled themselves down to sleep, Ayla sat by the door to the barn. She'd left it partially cracked so she could see through it to the town beyond. She took one of her swords out and laid it across her lap. She'd often found that even the small advantage afforded by having one weapon already out saved enough time and effort to be more than worth it.

Not for the first time, as she peered into the darkness beyond, she was grateful for the heightened senses her powers offered her. As with everyone in Fallor who had successfully gained an animal kin, she had certain abilities available to her even when she wasn't in her animal form. In her case, it was an increase in smell, hearing, and eyesight, which often came in handy.

As the darkness grew more complete, however, she decided to try something she hadn't put into practice yet in Ferelden. If one's control over their shape-shifting was good enough, they could change just one part of themselves as needed. She'd been fortunate enough to learn how to shift just her eyes, so she could see better in the dark. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and brought the image to mind, allowing the change to pass over just her eyes. When she opened her eyes, she was both pleased and relieved to find that it had worked; she could make out everything in the town now as clearly as if it were day.

So, that answered one question for her. She could still shift in Ferelden, though the world was not her own. However, she still didn't know if it would be a good idea to do so. Even in Fallor, and the other countries of her world, the gift of shape-shifting was looked on with suspicion by those who didn't possess it. That was in a place where it was widely known, and acknowledged; she didn't think it would be any better here. Many people also thought shifters were little better than wild animals themselves, due to their instincts and powers, and some even called them demons.

She admitted it could be difficult to control the animal inside sometimes; it was the animal's rage at losing its pack, combined with her own human grief, loss, and rage, that made her so unstable when it came to bandits. But that didn't mean that she was incapable of controlling it, or that shifters were any less human, in her mind. And she was willing to deal with the challenges of control, if it meant gaining the powers necessary to make her more of a threat on the battlefield. As far as she was concerned, it was due to the shifters that Fallor, in spite of being such a small country, had never been successfully taken over. She wondered what Alistair would think. Would he still want her, if he knew she was a shifter?

It was then that she picked up on a noise behind her. She realized, as she listened more closely, that it had been long enough since she'd started watch that everyone had fallen asleep. About an hour, maybe? But the rhythm of Alistair's breathing had changed. It had gone from slow and steady to rapid and shallow; he was also tossing and turning in his sleep. It was when she caught the whisper of "Duncan, no . . ." that she realized he was in the throes of a nightmare.

She took a long look out at the darkness, to make sure there was nothing nearby, before going to wake him up. She didn't want to leave him to suffer. Fortunately, he'd chosen a pile of hay nearest to her and the door; she should be able to wake him up without disturbing the others. She let the change slip out of her eyes as she quietly crept over to him, bringing the lamp with her in her empty hand so he'd be able to see who it was. It wouldn't do to have him open his eyes and see an animal's eyes reflected back at him, or not know who was trying to wake him up.

She crouched down next to him, and shook his shoulder. He'd left his armor on, which she recognized as a soldier's habit; never knew what might face you when you woke up, after all. His gauntlets, sword and shield were lying off to the side, however. "Alistair, wake up," she hissed.

Like any good soldier, he woke up immediately, jerking up so fast their heads almost smashed together. Luckily, she was fast enough to rear back in time. He looked around frantically for a second, hand groping automatically for his sword, before his hazel eyes met hers. "Ayla? Is something wrong?"

"No." She shook her head, keeping her voice low. "You were having a nightmare; I thought you might appreciate an interruption."

He blinked, putting a hand to his forehead as he gathered himself. "Yes, I guess I was. Thank you."

"No problem." She straightened up, taking the lamp and her sword with her again as she went back to the door. She sank down into her seated position, sword across her knees, as she scanned the darkness again, straining her hearing as well. She was surprised and pleased to hear Alistair approaching her from behind, trying to keep the clank of his armor as quiet as possible.

He sat down next to her, only a few inches away, so that heat thrummed through her body at his nearness. He smelled good, as well, she realized, like fresh pine and male. But as he turned to look at her, she noticed how haunted his eyes were, and realized now wasn't the time for that.

"I don't know if I could sleep just now," he murmured in answer to her questioning look. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a few minutes?"

"Of course not," she reassured him. She thought for a moment, before deciding it might help him to talk, if he was able to do so now. "Do you want to talk about it? About Duncan and the others, I mean?"

He looked startled, and took a deep breath, looking away. Just as she'd decided he wasn't going to answer, he finally spoke. "You don't have to do that; I know you didn't know him very long at all, and you didn't meet any of the others."

Well, he was talking; it was a start at least. She knew that even someone who liked to be alone with their grief, as she did, would eventually need to talk about it before they exploded. "That doesn't matter. It's not about me; it's about you and what you need. If you need to talk, I'm here to listen whenever you're ready. I understand that they meant a lot to you."

He took a shaky breath, still not meeting her eyes. "I should have handled it better. Duncan warned me right from the beginning that something like this could happen. Any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not when so much is riding on us; not with the Blight and everything. I'm sorry." He finally looked at her with this statement, his hazel eyes dark with crushing grief.

She reached for his hand, laying her own over top of it. The leather gloves she wore were fingerless, so for the first time, they were touching skin to skin. It felt like fire spread through her body from where she touched him, especially when he flipped his hand over and twined his fingers through hers. It was a little terrifying for her to realize how much her heart ached for his grief; it made her realize that he was already coming to mean more to her than a quick tumble. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that, but she was too full of curiosity and desire about him to let it stop her now.

She shook her head at him. "There's no need to apologize. You handled it much better than I did, when my father – well, when I lost my father." She hated, _hated_ that her voice still wanted to choke up whenever she spoke of her father. He snorted derisively. "It's true. I would barely speak to anyone for weeks after that, even my own brother, unless it involved our work or planning our revenge. So, you see, you're already doing much better than me, and you lost more than one person." She smiled at him reassuringly.

He gave her a tentative smile back, and she squeezed his hand. He appeared lost in thought for a moment before he spoke again. "If you say so. I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is all done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."

"He had you, and the other Wardens, didn't he?" Ayla knew that often the warriors one fought side by side with could become like a second family; it was like that for her and her brother, with the Avallonne members.

"I suppose he did." This time the smile he gifted her with was a genuine one, if sad. "It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I was with him, in the battle. I feel like I abandoned him."

"No, it doesn't sound stupid. I understand completely." _If only I'd been with Father that day, then maybe . . . _"But he saved your life, all our lives, really, by sending us to the tower." She knew it would be small consolation, but she felt she had to remind him of it, anyway.

Alistair sighed heavily. "Yes, I know. I think he came from Highever, or so he said." He paused for a moment, looking out at the stars. "Maybe I'll go up out there sometime, see about putting up something in his honor. I don't know. What happened to your father? Not that I mean to pry, I'm just . . ."

It was Ayla's turn to sigh. She didn't really want to talk about it, but she supposed it was only fair, given that she'd pushed him to talk about his own grief. Besides, maybe he'd understand about the bandits better. "My father was Captain of the Order before he died. I think I mentioned that part of our duties are as a peacekeeping force."

He nodded, giving her silent encouragement with those marvellous eyes of his, so she continued, struggling to keep her voice even. "He went on a lone, routine patrol. As Captain, he was one of our finest warriors, obviously, even at his age, and we were at peace, so no one thought anything of it. Myself included, though I should've gone with him. But he was ambushed, by a group of bandits operating in that region. There were so many of them, that even with his skill, he was overwhelmed, and he was killed."

She took a deep, shaky breath, and he squeezed her hand as she had his earlier. "I won't go into detail, but they didn't kill him quickly. When they dumped his body in front of headquarters, as an _example_, it was mangled almost beyond recognition. Later, my brother and I found out which group was responsible. We hunted them down ourselves, and killed them all, one by one. We didn't let _them_ go quickly either. That's why . . . I react to bandits the way I do. I know they're not the same ones. But anytime I see a group of bandits, stealing, tormenting, or killing those weaker than them, I can't control the rage I feel. I have to kill them all." She winced. Great, now he'd realize how damaged she was.

"I'm sorry." She turned her head to look at him, shocked. He was looking at her with _sympathy_, not disgust. "I shouldn't have asked. I can't even imagine, really, what it must have felt like."

"No, it's okay," she smiled at him. "I could have refused to talk about it. I . . . wanted you to understand, about the bandits. I didn't want you to think badly of me for what I did on the highway."

He shook his head, and she was warmed by the admiration in his gaze. "I was a little startled, sure, but I couldn't really think badly of you. You've done so much to help us, just because you can. You've been so good to me – to us, and so brave. And I can't blame you for your reaction to bandits. But can I ask you for a favour, if you don't mind?"

He was so damn _sweet_, that he floored her. She didn't think she could refuse him anything right then. "What would you ask of me?"

"Just don't be so reckless when you fight bandits, from now on. You had me worried sick when you charged in there, without even keeping an eye on your back. So just – be careful." He grinned crookedly at her.

She grinned back at him. "I knew you had my back." And it was true, she had known it. She hadn't understood her complete faith in it at the time, still didn't, but she absolutely trusted him to watch her back. Though she trusted her brother equally, she'd never met anybody else she'd trusted like this until now. It made no sense, but she wasn't going to analyze it too closely.

He shook his head, though he was still smiling. "I do have your back, believe me. But I'd still feel a lot better if you were a bit more careful. I'm the one with the heavy armor and the really big shield, remember."

"All right, all right," she laughed, holding her other hand up in defeat. He was too cute to refuse. "I promise to try to be more careful." She glanced at him, considering. She wanted to do something more for him, and the idea came to her suddenly. "Maybe I'll go with you to Highever, when you go. For Duncan, I mean."

His smile was suddenly so warm that she was sure her heart rate doubled. "I'd like that. So would he, I think." He cleared his throat. "Thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little. I think I might be able to sleep now."

"Yes, you should probably try to get more sleep. You do have a watch later on." She smiled ruefully. She didn't want him to go back to sleep, though. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so comfortable talking to someone.

He got up, letting go of her hand, and it suddenly felt cold without the warmth of his. "Good night, Ayla." His voice had taken on a low, husky quality that sent shivers down her spine. Damn it, she was in trouble.

"Good night, Alistair," she replied softly, watching him as he turned and went back to his makeshift bed. She resisted all urges to join him; she was on watch, and she didn't think he was ready for that, anyway. _It's going to be a long night,_ she thought, turning her gaze back to the darkness.

* * *

"Ayla, wake up."

Ayla woke up promptly when she heard Alistair's voice the next morning. To her surprise, once Aedan had relieved her, she'd slept quite well. Though she had deliberately chosen a spot far enough away from Alistair so she wouldn't succumb to temptation in the middle of the night.

The temptation in question was crouched down next to her, having gently shaken her shoulder as she had his previously. He grinned crookedly at her as she sat up. "Good morning, my lady."

"Good morning, ser," she grinned back at him. She stretched her arms up and arched her back deliberately. She always liked to stretch upon waking anyway, but Alistair's reaction didn't disappoint. She saw him swallow out of the corner of her eye as his gaze followed the motions of her body and darkened, and a blush spread over his cheeks.

Of course, Aedan just _had_ to pick that moment to interrupt. "All right, it's time we got going," he announced as he strapped on his sword and began packing up his things.

Ayla bit back a sigh of disappointment as Alistair shot to his feet and, still blushing, went to gather his own things. She knew it wasn't a good time, but _still._ She got up and packed her own things together as well, noticing that the other women were awake and gathering their packs too.

"We'll start by heading further out of town." Aedan headed for the door to the barn, and they all followed, including Striker. "The bandits are supposed to be hitting the farmer's fields out there. Once we've dispatched them, we'll collect our reward at the Chantry, and see about getting that qunari, Sten, released. Then we'll head for Redcliffe."

Everyone nodded, and Aedan took the lead, heading further north from the barn they'd been in and out to fields that stretched out past the houses of the town. They'd made it past a rather large hill to their west, and farmer's fields to their right, when Ayla spotted figures in the distance and an arrow landed right by Aedan's feet.

"There they are," he murmured. "Leliana, Morrigan, can you give us some cover fire? The rest of us will confront the bandits head on. I'd like to leave at least one of this group alive, so we can find out if there's more of them hiding elsewhere." He gave Ayla a significant glance.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, I'll leave you one."

The three of them, along with Striker, drew their weapons and headed towards the bandits, Alistair taking point again. He caught some arrows on his shield, while Ayla and Aedan ran in zigzag patterns to make themselves harder targets. Arrows and arcane bolts streaked past them towards the bandits.

Once they confronted the small group of about half a dozen bandits, it didn't take long before there was only one left. Ayla had done her best to control her rage and bloodlust, but had still made pretty short work of the inexperienced bunch with the help of the others. She had, however, with no little effort, managed to leave Aedan the last of them.

The bandit lay on the ground, with an arrow in his leg and Aedan's sword at his throat. "Tell me if there are more of you, and where your hideout is," Aedan prompted, his tone steely.

"Bugger off," the bandit spat back. "I ain't telling you anything."

"I suggest you tell him what he wants to know," Ayla said icily, fingering her sword hilt. "He's the only thing keeping you from a _very_ slow, painful death right now."

The bandit met her gaze, and his sneering look faded as she glared all her hatred at him. He turned back to Aedan and began to babble the location of a cave, another mile further out of town, explaining that there were twelve more in the group. Aedan nodded as the man finished, and then suddenly drove his sword through the bandit's neck.

"What?" Aedan asked as he turned, wiping off his sword. Everyone was staring at him. "I didn't say I was going to let him live after he gave me the information."

Ayla shrugged. She was fine with that. She didn't think she would have been able to let the bandit go after Aedan got what he wanted, anyway. Leliana looked shocked, though. Alistair was thoughtful, and Morrigan looked pleased again. "Let's keep moving," Aedan added, turning to head in the direction the bandit had indicated.

They found the caves easily enough, though they had to dispatch half of the group on the way. They'd already fallen into an easy rhythm of teamwork with each other, though, especially Ayla and the two Wardens. Their skills complemented each other well, and they were able to deal with the first group without incident.

The second group proved a little more troublesome; the bandit leader was with them, and he was a good deal more skilled than the others. He was a huge man, bigger than Alistair, wielding an immense greatsword. Eventually, however, with Aedan and Alistair distracting him from the front, Ayla was able to jam a sword through the gap in his underarm, and she twisted viciously. The man fell to his knees with a groan, and Aedan took his head off with a stroke of his sword.

They quickly looted the bandit's camp, taking any valuables they could find, and Aedan decided to take the leader's armor and weapon, stating they would probably fit the qunari. He and Alistair divided that load amongst themselves. They also collected one of the bandit's shields, which was marked with their group's emblem of a blood-red skull, as proof for the Chantry board. They made their way back to the Chantry after that.

After they'd spoken to the Chanter, and collected their reward, Leliana offered to intervene on their behalf with the Revered Mother. Morrigan didn't want to go in, and Ayla didn't see any point to it, so the two remained outside with Striker while the men went in with Leliana.

Ayla asked Morrigan some questions that had been bothering her in regards to mages, the Templars, and the Chantry. She felt Morrigan would probably be most accepting of her ignorance, since her mother had seemed to be aware that Ayla was of another world. Morrigan did turn out to be surprisingly patient, and answered all of Ayla's questions with an equally surprising lack of scorn.

Though her obvious hate of the Chantry colored her responses, Ayla found she couldn't blame Morrigan for that once she'd heard all of the things that were done to mages. She discovered that the reason that there were Templars was in case mages succumbed to demons, which were apparently wont to plague them. This was something that didn't happen in Ayla's world. The only danger magic power had there was in killing a mage who overused it, or if they were powerful enough and lost control, maybe others nearby. But there was no possession, which explained the difference in how mages were treated here.

It sounded to Ayla like the Chantry had gravely overcompensated for the possibility of possession, though. Mages were basically prisoners, with little to no freedoms, except for ones like Morrigan and her mother, who refused to live under Chantry control. Morrigan explained that this came with its own problems, however. They were branded apostates and, any time their existence was discovered, were hunted. If not for her mother's power, Morrigan believed they likely would've been caught and killed long ago. Ayla had just expressed her sympathy, feeling like she understand Morrigan a little better now, when the others re-emerged from the Chantry.

"She agreed to give us the key, thanks to Leliana," Aedan announced as they approached. Leliana beamed, and Morrigan snorted. "Come on, we'll sell some of the things we got from the bandits, then we'll release Sten and leave."

The others followed Aedan back over to the merchant from yesterday. Aedan sold off most of the armor and weapons they'd found on the bandits this morning, except for the leader's gear. Finally, they headed to the qunari's cage.

It was to the west of the tavern, towards the edge of town. As they approached it, Ayla looked up at the man in awe. He was at least another foot taller than Alistair, and even broader in the shoulder, with immense arms. He had darkly tanned skin, braided white hair, and purple eyes. He made for a very intimidating picture, even in plain homespun clothes.

"I have the key to open your cage," Aedan announced as they approached. The qunari was staring at them all with an unreadable expression.

"I confess, I did not think the priestess would part with it," the qunari answered at last, in an even, measured tone.

"She agreed to release you into our custody. You do still wish to fight the Blight, do you not?" Aedan folded his arms, watching the qunari for a reaction.

"Into your custody? So be it," the qunari sighed heavily. "I will follow you into battle. In doing so, I will find my atonement."

Aedan unlocked the cage, and the qunari stepped out. "You met Morrigan and Striker yesterday. These are my other companions," Aedan gestured to each of them in turn, "Alistair, my fellow Warden, Ayla, a warrior from another country who is aiding us, and Leliana, who was one of the Sisters here at the Chantry. She also decided to give us her aid in fighting the Blight. Everybody, this is Sten, one of the qunari peoples."

Sten looked at them all expressionlessly as they all offered various greetings. "May we proceed? I am eager to be elsewhere."

Aedan sighed, obviously unsurprised at Sten's lack of friendly reply. "Certainly. Here, we found some armor and a sword I thought might suit you."

He and Alistair knelt and opened their packs, unloading the pieces of the chainmail armor they'd found. Alistair took the greatsword off his back. Sten looked the items over before nodding. "These will do."

He strapped himself into the armor with a fair amount of ease, refusing help as the others waited for him. Finally done, he picked up the greatsword and checked its balance experimentally. Ayla noticed the grimace of unease, the first expression she'd seen on his face, as he handled the weapon. She understood the discomfort of fighting with an unfamiliar weapon. Alistair gave him some dried meat, cheese, bread and a waterskin from his pack before they moved on. Sten ate on the way as Aedan lead them to the highway to the northwest, which led out of Lothering and to Redcliffe.

The stone steps leading up to the highway were within sight when Alistair drew his sword. "Darkspawn!"

Ayla heard it just after he said it; the sound of someone screaming for help. She drew her swords as well, and they all ran for the highway, hearing the cries get louder as they drew near.

As they darted up the stone steps, Ayla spotted two dwarves huddling among a wagon and a bunch of crates to their left, as a group of about eight darkspawn raced towards them from the right. Alistair ran to intercept, catching the blow of a Hurlock on his shield, and Ayla followed.

The battle was soon joined quickly. Leliana and Morrigan stayed back, as before, sending arrows and spells into the ranks of the attacking darkspawn, while the men drew the attention of the darkspawn. Ayla snuck into the fray, weaving around and behind the darkspawn, stabbing and beheading where she could. The battle proved to be over quickly; Sten had been a great help, cutting down two darkspawn with massive swings of his sword almost immediately.

Ayla swiped her swords off on a filthy rag taken from the darkspawn and sheathed them. She noticed Alistair had searched her out with his eyes almost immediately again following the battle; it gave her a warm feeling whenever he did that, so she couldn't help smiling at him when their eyes met, and his face lit with an answering smile. She turned her attention to the dwarves who were approaching Aedan. One looked to be a fair bit older, with the required beard and long sandy hair; the other was young, with no beard, short hair, and a rather foolish grin on his face.

"Mighty timely arrival there, my friend, I'm much obliged," the older dwarf said as he stopped in front of Aedan. Ayla followed the others in gathering around behind Aedan to listen.

"You are most welcome, my dwarven friend," Aedan answered with his usual unfailing courtesy.

"The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. This here's my son, Sandal." He gestured to the young dwarf next to him. "Say hello, my boy."

"Hello," Sandal said in a dull tone that confirmed Ayla's suspicions that he was a bit simple in the head.

"Road's been mighty dangerous these days," Bodahn continued. "Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps we're going the same way."

"Well, if you are travelling around Ferelden, we might be," Aedan answered. "We are currently on our way to Redcliffe, to gain an audience with Arl Eamon, but we have other destinations around Ferelden after that."

Bodahn perked up visibly at this news. "There's good trade to be had at Redcliffe! Mind if my boy and I come along? We could use some protection on the road, and perhaps we could be of help to you in return."

Aedan crossed his arms thoughtfully, gazing at the dwarf. "Would you let us use your wagon to store some of our supplies? That way, we could carry a bit more than normal."

Ayla had to admit it would be nice to be able to carry more things. If they had a wagon, they might even be able to have tents and cooking supplies, which was something they'd avoided buying in Lothering because of the lack of means to carry it. They all awaited the dwarf's response.

"Why certainly!" Bodahn beamed in response. "I'm also willing to offer you a fine discount for the inconvenience of our presence! How does that sound? Good, yes?"

Aedan looked back at everyone, and they all nodded in response. "Sounds like a deal," he agreed. "Just mind yourselves; it might get a bit dangerous."

"Wonderful! Thank the kind man, my boy!" Bodahn turned to his son.

"Thank you, kind man," Sandal responded in the same dull tone.

"You're welcome," Aedan replied. "Let's get moving, then. I'd like to be well away from Lothering by nightfall."

"Of course!" Bodahn nodded, and gesturing to his son, he began gathering up crates and placing them on the wagon. Everyone moved to help, and once the wagon was loaded, they made sure the highway was clear of obstacles like darkspawn corpses before they began to move out.

Aedan took the lead, as usual, and the others arranged themselves around the wagon, to guard it as best as possible. Ayla followed, relieved that they were finally on the road again, headed towards Redcliffe. She only hoped, for Alistair's sake, that Arl Eamon was alive once they got there.

_Second A/N: I had considered having Ayla overhear the Warden/Alistair nightmare conversation, but decided I'd rather have a little alone time with her and Alistair. I'm still undecided if I want to include the darkspawn nightmare conversation, so if anyone has an opinion on that, please let me know! Also, I know Bodahn doesn't join your group here (at least I never could get him to) but as far as I'm concerned it makes more sense this way. As always, feedback would be appreciated! Thanks!_


	9. Confessions

_Author's Note: Wow, I think this is the longest one yet! Partly due to the fact that the first section is really just fluff between Ayla and Alistair, but hey, it is a romance, after all. There will be more fluff to come. I also had a specific place that I wanted to stop, and didn't really want to cut the chapter before then. I know there's a fair chunk of game dialogue from Redcliffe in here, but I do want to showcase the main plot point conversations and how they affect the characters, and what the characters are thinking at the time. Besides, this is an Alistair story, and Redcliffe is an Alistair-centric event. I will skip over all the side quest and errand type conversations though. _

_This chapter is from Alistair's POV. I will likely do all of Redcliffe from Alistair's POV, unless it ends up being more chapters than I expect._

_As always, big thanks to those who have favorited and followed so far! I'm so glad that you enjoy the story enough to do that! I would love more reviews however, they are very motivating ;)._

_Disclaimer: As always, Bioware owns Dragon Age and its dialogue and characters, and I own my character._

Confessions

They were making camp for the second night in a row after having left Lothering. Judging by the map of Ferelden they'd been able to purchase off the dwarf, Bodahn, they would reach Redcliffe early tomorrow afternoon if they left at first light again.

Which didn't really leave him with much time, Alistair mused. He knew he had to tell Aedan and Ayla the truth about who he really was before they got to Redcliffe. The problem was, he still didn't really want to. Right now, _nobody_ in their immediate group had any idea of who he really was, and it was remarkably freeing. He couldn't even remember the last time that had happened.

But, he knew there was a good chance that someone would bring it up when they got to Redcliffe. He figured that, as the leader, Aedan had a right to know important details like that before he got blindsided with them. And if he told Aedan, but not Ayla, she might be angry with him when she did find it out. So he'd decided he would pull the two of them aside at some point and tell them. None of the rest of them needed to know before it was brought up, though, as far as he was concerned.

He still had no idea how exactly he was going to go about his confession, though, which is why he hadn't so far. He admitted that he'd had the perfect opportunity to tell Ayla last night that he hadn't acted on. He simply hadn't wanted to tell her, terrified that she might see him differently. He'd been enjoying the conversation with her so much that he hadn't wanted to do anything to spoil it.

He had to admit, he was amazed at how easy it was to talk to her. When she'd first brought up the subject of him being raised by Arl Eamon last night, he'd done what he always did when people asked him personal questions: deflected it with stupid humor. This usually succeeded in exasperating people to the point where they never bothered to continue the conversation, let alone ask him the question again. Ayla, however, had not only seemed to find his attempt at humor amusing, but she'd actually played along with it.

Then, when he'd said something about strange dreams, she'd told him she had dreams of the two of them making mad love. He still wasn't sure if she'd been flirting with him or just trying to get him to blush (which he had, of course), since it seemed to be a source of great amusement for her when he blushed. At any rate, he'd been so flustered, aroused, and tongue-tied, that he'd only been able to focus on one thing: her original question.

He'd somehow succeeded in getting himself back on track and had told her all about being raised by Arl Eamon, even about his mother's amulet, which he'd never told _anyone_ before. But when they'd come to the subject of who his real father actually was, he'd glossed over it, only telling her that Arl Eamon wasn't his father, despite what Lady Isolde thought. She'd accepted it, but he was afraid she really would be angry with him when she found out that it was actually something important.

So, he had no idea where to start, or what to say. That was also not the only problem he had when it came to Ayla. Ever since their talk in Lothering, he'd been getting increasingly more obsessed with her. He'd tried to tell himself it was a bad idea, for any number of reasons, not the least of which was he didn't know how she felt, and that she was going to leave when the Blight was over. But being logical hadn't seemed to discourage his feelings in the slightest. Especially considering the very graphic and vivid dream he'd had about her last night.

As a result of that dream, he'd thought about what to do about his attraction to her all day. He'd finally decided that he was going to try to act on it. After all, if she liked him, and things went well, maybe she'd want to stay here. He couldn't think of any way to get himself to stop being attracted to her, anyway, and would it be so bad to allow himself something like this, just this once?

Having decided to pursue her, however, raised the very real problem of what to do next. He'd been raised in the Chantry, where young boys were kept very much separate from young girls, and taught in no uncertain terms that they weren't supposed to have any impure or sinful thoughts regarding them. Any boys (or girls) found doing something they shouldn't be were very strictly punished. Since he got punished enough as it was, he'd never really tried anything along those lines.

When he'd finally left the Chantry, six months ago, he'd had very little exposure to women his own age, resulting in a complete lack of experience. His Grey Warden brothers had tried to take it upon themselves to "help" by telling him various outlandish and inappropriate things, some of which sounded downright impossible to Alistair. They'd also tried to drag him to brothels to "fix" his lack of experience, but he'd flatly refused. As dumb as it might sound, he wanted his first time to be perfect, with somebody who actually wanted _him,_ and not just the money.

He'd also wanted it to be with a woman who was really special to him, and he'd decided Ayla might actually be that woman. He'd never been so singularly interested in one woman before. Most of his fantasies prior to meeting her had been formless ones, usually starring faceless women, or maybe a pretty woman he'd seen briefly in passing at some point. Since finding her in the Wilds, his fantasies had consistently starred her, and had been far more frequent than before. It seemed pretty clear to him that Ayla was a good candidate for his first time.

However, this decision did not solve his original problem: What in the Maker's name were you supposed to do when you liked a woman? As this question crossed his mind for possibly the hundredth time that day, he realized he'd finally made it back to camp with his armload of firewood. He kicked at the ground in frustration. If only he wasn't such an _idiot_ when it came to this sort of thing.

He suddenly spotted Aedan across the camp. He was at Morrigan's fire, which, like the night before, was so far away from the main fire and everybody else that it was completely out of earshot. He was amazed to see that the witch was actually _smiling._ That's it! He could ask Aedan for help. If Aedan could get the Witch of the Wilds to smile, surely he could help Alistair with Ayla!

He'd have to get Aedan away from the camp to ask him, though. He'd noticed that Ayla's hearing was unnaturally sharp, and he didn't want her to overhear the sure-to-be-awkward conversation that he would have with Aedan. He'd see about talking to him later, Alistair decided. He headed over to the main fire, which was in the middle of the circle of tents provided by Bodahn's generosity. Among many of the other things they'd done last night setting up camp had been acquiring various items from Bodahn that they'd been lacking or unable to carry before, and now their camp seemed almost _homey._

He heard the sound of lively, upbeat music as he approached, and soon spotted its source. Leliana was playing a fast-paced song on the lute that Aedan had bought from Bodahn after learning she was a travelling minstrel from Orlais prior to being a Chantry Sister. And Ayla was dancing along to the music, whirling in tight circles and stomping her feet.

She looked more beautiful than ever, Alistair thought in awe. For the first time since he'd met her, all her fiery red hair was out of its braid, tumbling to her waist and whipping around her as she spun. _How would all that hair look spread out underneath her . . ? __No, no, think about something else!_ Her eyes were glowing, her face was flushed, and everything about her bespoke perfect enjoyment of the moment. She was wearing a light cotton tunic and leggings designed to be worn under armor, both of which hugged her curves nicely as she spun.

He walked over to them and deposited the wood by the fire just as Leliana wound up the song. Amazingly, he found himself able to speak without much difficulty. "What was that song, Leliana? Is it Orlesian?"

Leliana stopped playing and Ayla stopped dancing, both of them smiling at him. He had to actually ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out for Ayla. "Oh no, it is actually from Ayla's country! She has been teaching it to me. It is a lovely song, yes?"

Alistair nodded, trying hard to keep his focus; he _was_ actually curious about the song, especially if it was from Ayla's country. He still hadn't asked nearly enough questions about that. "Does it have any words?"

Ayla grinned up at him as she pushed a tangle of hair out of her face. "Actually, it does. It's one of my favourite songs from back home."

"You must sing it for me, then!" Leliana exclaimed. "How am I to learn the song properly if I do not know the words?"

"Oh, well . . ." Ayla looked embarrassed for once, glancing down at her feet. "I'm not much of a singer, I'm afraid."

"Oh, but you must!" Leliana begged.

"Yeah, come on," Alistair fixed her with his very best puppy dog eyes. He'd love to hear her sing. "For me? Please?"

"Oh, very well," Ayla huffed out in exasperation, though she was smiling. "But, if I do this for you, you have to dance with me when Leliana has the words right!"

Now it was Alistair's turn to be embarrassed. "I don't know about that . . . I've never really danced before." That was another thing the Chantry didn't really bother teaching.

Ayla waved her hand as though this were a minor concern. "Don't worry about that! Dancing is easier than singing; you just have to move to the music, that's all. And I won't sing unless you agree."

Alistair threw up his hands in defeat, though he was secretly pleased at an excuse to be close to her. "All right, fine! But I won't be held responsible if I step on your feet."

She slanted an amused look at him. "Don't worry, I'm fast. Ready, Leliana?"

Leliana nodded, positioning her fingers on the lute, her blue eyes taking on a look of intense focus as Ayla began to sing.

_Sail away where no ball and chain  
Can keep us from the roarin' waves  
Together undivided but forever we'll be free  
So sail away aboard our rig  
The moon is full and so are we  
We're seven drunken pirates  
We're the seven deadly sins  
We're seven drunken pirates  
We're the seven deadly sins_

_But It's the only life we'll know_  
_Blaggards to the bone_  
_So don't wreck yourself_  
_Take an honest grip_  
_For there's more tales beyond the shore_

_Ah the years rolled by and several died_  
_And left us somewhat reelin'_  
_In and out came crawlin' out_  
_And spewed upon the ceiling_  
_So what became of rebels_  
_That sang for you and me_  
_Grapplin' with their demons_  
_In the search for liberty_

_Sail away where no ball and chain_  
_Can keep us from the roarin' waves_  
_Together undivided but forever we'll be free_  
_So sail away aboard our rig_  
_The moon is full and so are we_  
_We're seven drunken pirates_  
_We're the seven deadly sins_

_Sail away where no ball and chain_  
_Can keep us from the roarin' waves_  
_Together undivided but forever we'll be free_  
_So sail away aboard our rig_  
_The moon is full and so are we_  
_We're seven drunken pirates_  
_We're the seven deadly sins_  
_We're seven drunken pirates_  
_We're the seven deadly sins_  
_We're seven drunken pirates_  
_We're the seven deadly sins *_

Alistair smiled as he listened to her. As he'd thought, he enjoyed her singing; her voice was as clear as a bell and full of passionate enjoyment while she sang along to Leliana's lute, even if she didn't quite hit all the notes perfectly. When she finished, he grinned teasingly at her. "Drunken pirates, huh? Are you secretly a drunken pirate and that's why you like this song?"

She laughed, giving him a playful shove. "No! I like it because it makes me want to dance to it without holding anything back. You don't get quite the same effect for the song with just the lute, though. Usually a full band of minstrels with several instruments plays it. But this is close enough. Do you have it, Leliana?"

"Almost!" Leliana's eyes gleamed. "You will have to teach me as many songs as you can remember. I have never heard anything like this one."

"Of course!" Ayla smiled brightly at her. "As often as we get the chance, I'll teach you. We'll go through it a couple more times if you're ready."

Leliana nodded, and began to play as Ayla sung through the song a few more times. Finally, Leliana announced that she was ready to do it on her own, and Ayla turned to Alistair. "Ready?" She gave him a wicked grin.

He felt his heart skip a few beats. "No," he retorted, but he took the hands she held out anyway and turned to face her. He was grateful that he'd also gone out to the stream to wash prior to collecting firewood, so he was wearing a light tunic and leggings similar to Ayla's and leather boots. If he'd been wearing his armor, he wouldn't have had any hope of keeping up with her.

She took one of his hands and put it at her waist, while hers went up to his shoulder. His other hand she linked with hers, keeping both their hands up in the air. Alistair took a shaky breath. He could feel the heat of her skin and the curve of her waist through her tunic, and the skin-on-skin contact of their hands was sending little trails of fire up his arm. _Just focus on the dancing, not on her._

Leliana started to play and sing, and Ayla tugged on his arm and shoulder as she started back into her whirling dance. He did his best to follow her, and stumbled a bit at first, but soon started to get the hang of it. As far as he could tell, she wasn't really following any particular pattern, just keeping up to the beat. By the time they got partway through the song, they were both spinning and stomping in circles around the clearing by Leliana, and Alistair was enjoying himself thoroughly, particularly when he watched Ayla's eyes sparkle up at him.

All too soon, the song was over and they stopped, their hands dropping down to their sides, although neither immediately let go of their linked hands right away. Alistair felt a sudden stab of guilt as he realized that during that song, he'd felt perfectly happy. How could he feel so good so soon after everything that had happened?

"You don't have to feel guilty all the time," Ayla whispered to him, squeezing his hand. "Nobody would expect you to, or want you to, least of all Duncan I'm sure."

Alistair looked down at her in astonishment. "How did you –"

"I saw it on your face." She tapped the side of his face lightly with her free hand. "You'd make a terrible gambler, you know. Besides, I had that feeling often enough myself to recognize it in someone else."

"Right. Well – thanks. I'll keep that in mind." He might've said more, or had the courage to do something else, but just then Aedan came over.

"All right, as much as I enjoyed listening to you play, Leliana, we should probably all retire for the night now. I'd like us to leave at dawn tomorrow, and get to Redcliffe as soon as possible." Aedan glanced at the three of them, and they all nodded in turn. "Right, I'll see you all in the morning, then."

He headed off to his own tent, as Leliana set aside her lute and picked up her bow. Last night, they'd established a more fair watch schedule to include the other three, which meant Leliana got first watch tonight. She headed for the perimeter of the camp to start a patrol, calling out a good night to them as she left.

"Maybe we should do this again sometime," Alistair suggested, looking down at Ayla, wishing fervently that he could think of something else to say.

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand lightly again before letting it go. "Absolutely. You make a good dance partner, Alistair. See you in the morning." She turned and headed to her tent.

_Right, the morning_, Alistair thought as he went back to his own tent. He still had to think of how to talk to her and Aedan sometime tomorrow. Needless to say, he did not sleep well that night as his mind went through various confession scenarios.

* * *

It was when they were stopping for a quick lunch break at the top of a hill that Alistair decided it was finally time. They'd be at Redcliffe in another two hours or so, and in their travelling formation, it would be hard to get Aedan and Ayla alone away from the others. He still hadn't really settled on how to go about it, but there was nothing for it now.

Ayla was sitting next to him eating. He leaned over to her. "I have something I have to tell you and Aedan. Can you come with me to get him?"

She looked up at him, scanning his face. He tried to keep it as impassive as possible. She nodded. "Of course, let's go."

The two of them stood up and went over to Aedan, who was trying to talk to Sten without much success. As always, Striker was at his side. Ever since they'd left Lothering, Aedan had been going around to each of the party members whenever he got the chance, trying to talk to them, find out more about them, and make them feel welcome. Alistair personally thought he was wasting his time with Sten, who tended to answer with one word if it was at all possible. For some reason, though, Aedan persisted in trying. Oddly, it seemed that the qunari liked Striker better than any of them; Alistair was sure he'd seen Sten talking to the dog last night at camp, though he hadn't been close enough to overhear what was being said.

He interrupted Aedan as soon as he felt it was safe. "Aedan, do you have a moment? I need to talk to you and Ayla alone."

Aedan turned to him and gave him the same searching glance Ayla had before nodding. He expected they were both burning with curiosity as to what he had to say. Aedan turned briefly back to Sten. "I apologize for the interruption, Sten. I will come back later to finish this conversation with you."

"I am certain you will," Sten said heavily, sounding not at all thrilled at the possibility.

Alistair led the two of them a good ways away from the other three on the hill, Striker following, until he was satisfied that none of the others should be able to overhear. Finally, he turned to Ayla and Aedan, who were both staring at him expectantly.

He took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing. _ "I need to tell the both of you something I - should probably have told you earlier." He was so nervous that he couldn't keep from wringing his gauntleted hands together.

"Relax, Alistair," Ayla prompted him. "Just get whatever it is off your chest, you'll feel better." Great, she was being so nice to him about this that it was making him feel even guiltier for not having told her sooner.

Aedan, however, sighed as he watched Alistair fidget and sweat. "Oh great, I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"I don't know, I doubt it. I've never liked it, that's for sure." Alistair hesitated again before plunging onwards. "I told you both before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in? The reason he did that was because . . . well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my . . . half brother, I suppose." He trailed off at the end, half mumbling this part into his chest. Maybe they wouldn't hear him.

He looked up to see both of them staring at him. Well, gaping at him really. He couldn't really read any expression other than shock on both their faces. He sincerely hoped that neither of those expressions was about to change into anger. He honestly didn't know what to expect of either of them, though.

What he was _not _expecting was for Aedan to suddenly break out with a mischievous grin. "So, you're not just a bastard but a royal bastard?"

Alistair let out a relieved laugh. _So far, so good. _"Ha! Yes I guess I am at that. I should use that line more often!"

"I'm not sure I quite understand," Ayla said slowly. "Why didn't you tell us this sooner?" Alistair tried to read her expression, but it was carefully blank.

_She's probably mad. Or upset. I have to fix this._ "I would have told you both, but it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret." He watched her face, still hoping to see some sign of what she felt as he continued. "I've never talked about it to anyone. Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me . . . even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want anybody to know, as long as possible. I'm sorry." _Please, Maker, don't let her hate me for this,_ he begged silently.

She nodded after a moment, though her expression still didn't clear into anything that made Alistair think he was forgiven. "I think I understand. I'm technically a noble too, after all, but it's never really meant anything to me either."

Now it was Alistair and Aedan's turn to gape at her. "You're _technically_ a noble?" Aedan exclaimed incredulously. "What is that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged, not quite meeting either of their gazes. "Well, it's kind of a long story. Simply put, the Trichlor clan to which I belong is one of the eight oldest in Fallor, which gives the heir to the clan a seat on the King's council. That makes it one of the most important clans in the country after the Clan of Kings. But any of the heirs who enter any of the Orders are not allowed to inherit the clan's seat, since seats are also given to the Captain of each Order, and they want to make sure no one can hold two seats. So as soon as my father entered the Order, his seat passed to his younger brother. It could have gone back to my brother or me, but we both entered the Order as well. So it doesn't really mean anything to us, since we're not really viewed as nobility anymore, only soldiers."

"I suppose that makes sense," Aedan said thoughtfully. "Actually, it's quite similar to the Grey Wardens. Now that I am one, I'm not supposed to inherit Highever either. Wardens can't hold lands or titles. But even still, Alistair," he pinned Alistair with a glare, "you should have told us. Do you even realize what this means?"

Alistair looked back and forth between the two of them. Both were looking at him expectantly, Aedan with his arms crossed and a bit of glare to his expression still, Ayla still unreadable but not outright mad at least. He'd been surprised by Ayla's admission that she was a noble as well, but relieved that she seemed to understand how his status wouldn't mean anything to him. He realized all over again how little he knew about her. Once he was sure she wasn't mad at him, he was going to have a long talk with her about this country of hers. But what was Aedan getting at?

"You're right, I should have told you," Alistair admitted. "It's brought me nothing but problems, to be honest, so I was hoping to avoid it if I could. I'm not sure what you think it means, though."

"Are you kidding, Alistair?" Aedan threw his hands up in the air. "Cailan is dead! He had no children! That leaves you as the only living Theirin! How could that not have occurred to you?"

"That would make Alistair the new king, would it not?" Ayla asked, looking over at Aedan for confirmation. "If your former king never named an heir?"

Alistair was backing up, shaking his head. There was a perfectly good reason why this hadn't occurred to him, and that was because it was _impossible!_ There was no way he could be the king! "Oh no. No no no no. They make it very clear to me, over and over, that I'm a commoner and in no way in line for the throne. Not to mention, you said it yourself, Aedan! Grey Wardens can't inherit! And that's fine by me. I have no illusions about trying to be king! No, if there's an heir to be found, it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood, but he is Cailan's uncle, and more importantly, very popular with the people."

Aedan sighed, shaking his head. "Alistair, it's a totally different situation if you're in line for the throne, instead of just a Teyrnship. As soon as the Landsmeet finds out who you are, they won't care that you're a Warden. All they'll see is that you're Maric's son, and they'll want you on the throne to preserve the bloodline. And I imagine Loghain must know, he was Maric's best friend after all. This means he'll see you as a threat to Anora's rule, and likely try to have you killed as soon as possible. This isn't just something we can ignore."

Alistair felt his mouth opening and closing, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He'd been terrified at the thought of just leading this party, never mind an entire country! He'd been pushed off to the side his entire life, told to follow, and now everybody would expect him to suddenly know how to lead? As if that wasn't bad enough, Loghain was going to be trying to kill him specifically! That was just great! What in the Maker's name was he supposed to do?

He met Ayla's eyes, and she must have seen the desperation in his gaze, because her face softened. "Look, Aedan, do we really need to worry about this now? Shouldn't we be more worried about defeating the darkspawn to save this country instead of who's going to run it? Once we've got our army recruited, then we can go confront this Loghain fellow. If he sends more soldiers after us in the meantime, we'll just have to kill them. He's after both of you anyway."

Aedan frowned, drumming his fingers on his arm. "I suppose you've got a point. If Ferelden falls to the Blight, nobody will be worrying about who should be king. We'll just have to take things one at a time, and get to Loghain later. Eamon may have some thoughts on the subject as well, if he's recovered. We'll finish our food and get to Redcliffe as soon as possible."

Alistair sagged with relief. He was safe for now, and he was sure Arl Eamon wouldn't want him to be king. He'd always been one of the most adamant that Alistair was not to think of himself as a Theirin, but simply a commoner. He'd set all this straight, unless . . . "Hopefully he's not as sick as we've heard." He looked at Aedan anxiously. "If they're really searching for the Sacred Ashes to heal him, I don't even want to imagine how serious of an illness it is."

"That does worry me," Aedan admitted. "From everything I've heard, the Ashes are supposed to be nothing but a myth. Looking to them for a cure sounds rather desperate. But the only way we'll find out is if we go see for ourselves."

"So, let's get a move on then." Ayla walked past them, heading back to where she and Alistair had left their packs and food. "We only have so many hours of daylight left."

The two of them nodded and followed her, the dog trotting along behind. They quickly finished eating and began to pack up their things, ignoring the curious stares from the other three. Alistair imagined that they'd probably at least been able to tell that Aedan had been yelling, though it didn't seem that anybody knew what he'd been yelling about. That much was a relief, anyway. He could only imagine the kind of ammunition this would give Morrigan. Once they were ready, Aedan signalled for them to move out, and they continued on the trek to Redcliffe.

Though Ayla walked near him on the way, as she normally did, they made the remainder of the journey in silence. Alistair had no idea what to say to her after his confession, and she didn't seem inclined to talk to him. It wasn't until they were nearly at Redcliffe, able to see the castle in the distance and the cliffs that surrounded the village, that she finally spoke. "Something's not right."

Alistair turned to look at her. "What? What do you mean?"

She sniffed the air, a grim look on her face. "It smells like a battlefield. Blood and death."

"What? Are you sure?" Alistair tried to smell something other than outdoors. He couldn't smell anything at first, but suddenly the wind picked up, and it blew the rotting stench of death right in his face. Sadly, he was as familiar with the scent as Ayla seemed to be. "Maker, you're right! The village must have been attacked! Aedan, we have to hurry!"

He hurried forward, Ayla close behind, until he'd caught up with Aedan at the head of their party. He noticed as he did so that Striker was growling, the fur on his back bristling. Aedan looked down at the dog, then back at them, but seeing the look on Alistair's face, merely nodded before hurrying along with them. Everyone else followed suit.

As they approached the village, a single man came across the bridge leading into the village to meet them. While he looked panicked, and sported a bow and arrow, he didn't appear to be injured. Everybody drew to a halt in front of the man as he stopped. "I – I thought I saw travellers coming down the road, though I scarcely believed it!" the man exclaimed. "Have you come to help us?"

"What do you mean, come to help?" Aedan demanded. "We were coming to see Arl Eamon, what happened?"

"The Arl? Then . . . you don't know? Has nobody out there heard?" the man cried, panic plain in his voice.

"We've heard the Arl is sick, but that's all," Alistair replied hurriedly. "Did something happen to the village?"

"Sick? He could be dead for all we know!" the villager exclaimed. "No one's heard from the castle in days. Monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn. Everyone's been fighting . . . and dying."

Morrigan snorted. "Apparently everyone agrees that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other. Marvelous, really."

While Alistair had actually been thinking along the same lines, because it seemed like people were fighting and dying everywhere they went, he couldn't believe the witch had actually said it out loud. Didn't she realize that some things you should really keep to yourself? The villager apparently chose to ignore her however, for he merely continued speaking to Aedan. "We've no army to defend us, no Arl and no King to send us help. So many are dead, and those left are terrified they're next!"

Ayla stepped forward, holding up a hand to halt the villager. "Wait. What sort of monsters are these that are attacking? They're not darkspawn, are they?" She glanced at Alistair as she said this; he shook his head. He couldn't sense any nearby darkspawn, and the bulk of horde felt as though it was still well south of Redcliffe.

The villager shook his head. "I – I don't rightly know; I'm sorry. Nobody does. I should take you to Bann Teagan, he's all that's holding us together. He'll want to see you."

"Bann Teagan? Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?" Alistair demanded. He was relieved; even if Arl Eamon was still sick, Bann Teagan should have some idea of what to do. The Bann had always been kind to him when he was a child, and Alistair found himself looking forward to seeing at least one familiar face that was still alive.

"Yes, it's not far, if you'll come with me." Without waiting for an answer, the villager turned and began heading across the bridge.

"Come on," Aedan gestured to the others. "We have to find out what's going on here before we can do anything else."

They all followed the villager across the bridge and down the hill into Redcliffe. The further they went into the village, the more the sights and smells of recent battle became obvious. There were battered barricades set up at the bottom of the hill leading to the castle, and more set up at intervals on the way down into the village. There were very few villagers out, and those that they did see were all armed, some of them wearing shoddy armor as well. An impromptu training area had been set up in front of the Chantry, and several men were firing arrows at straw dummies, while others practiced with wooden swords. They were obviously not trained fighters, but rather villagers hoping desperately to defend themselves; their movements were sloppy, and many arrows flew past their targets or barely hit the edges.

The man in front of them led them directly into the Chantry. Once inside, they saw that this had become the base for the village; women, children, and the elderly were all packed inside, ranging along the walls. Temporary bedding, healing stations, and packs of food were everywhere. The Chantry was full of activity and the babble of loud voices and crying. As they approached the back of the Chantry, Alistair spotted the Bann.

He was wearing a shield with Redcliffe's heraldry on his back, as well as a longsword, both of fine make, but no armor that Alistair could see, merely a silk tunic and matching leggings. He bowed to an older man who walked away as the party came up, then turned to face them. The Teagan that Alistair remembered was a young, beardless man; the one that turned to face them sported a full beard, and his light brown hair was longer, with a small braid along the side. His kind brown eyes were the same as Alistair remembered, though they were full of concern now, and his face was more lined.

The Bann turned to the villager who'd brought them here. "It's . . . Tomas, yes? And who are these people with you? They're obviously not simple travelers."

"No, my lord," Tomas replied before any of the party could. "They just arrived, and I thought you would want to see them."

"Well done, Tomas. Greetings, friends." The Bann bowed his head to them. "My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the Arl."

Alistair was trying to think of something that would make Teagan realize who he was, when it came to him. The last time he'd seen Teagan, just before he'd left. He'd been so furious when he'd found out that he was being sent away, that when the other stableboy insulted him, instead of ignoring him or trading insults, he'd simply knocked the other boy into the mud and they'd started pounding on each other. Teagan had been the one to find them and break it up, and he'd gotten Alistair cleaned up and had promised not to tell anyone what had happened. As far as Alistair knew, he never had.

Alistair stepped forward next to Aedan. "I remember you, Bann Teagan, though the last time we met, I was a lot younger and . . . covered in mud." He could feel the others staring at him, but no one commented.

"Covered in mud? Alistair? It is you, isn't it?" A large, genuine smile broke across Teagan's face as he met Alistair's eyes. "You're alive! This is wonderful news!"

The relief Alistair felt at having been recognized faded as he realized the reason Teagan would have thought he was dead. _Ostagar . . . and Loghain._ He frowned. "Still alive, yes, though not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it."

"Indeed." The chill in Teagan's voice was evident as he spoke. "Loghain would have us believe all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew, amongst other things."

Aedan chose this moment to step forward and offer his own bow. "Greetings, Bann Teagan. We've never met personally, but I believe you may have met my father, Teyrn Cousland. My name is Aedan, and I am a Grey Warden, like Alistair. These others are not Grey Wardens, but companions who have agreed to assist us. This is Ayla, Morrigan, Leliana, and Sten." He pointed to each of them in turn; Ayla and Leliana bowed, but Morrigan and Sten gave no indication they'd noticed the introduction. "I take it you don't believe what Loghain is saying?"

Teagan turned curious eyes to them. "You are the youngest Cousland? I thought I recognized you. It is a pleasure to meet you, and your companions, though I wish it were under better circumstances. But no, I do not believe he pulled his men in order to save them, or that Cailan risked everything in the name of glory." Teagan scoffed before continuing. "Loghain calls the Grey Wardens traitors, murderers of the King. I don't believe it. It is an act of a desperate man."

"I apologize for interrupting," Ayla began, coming up alongside Alistair, "but do you know what it is that is happening in this village? We had come to see the Arl, but we hear you are being attacked by some sort of monsters."

Teagan sighed. "Yes, well, I'm afraid Redcliffe is suffering from a number of problems. My brother is gravely ill. On top of that, no one has heard from anyone in the castle in days. No guards patrol the walls, and no one has responded to my shouts. The attacks themselves started a few nights ago. Evil . . . things . . . surged from the castle. We were able to drive them back, but many perished during the assault."

"Just what sort of evil things are we talking about here?" Aedan demanded. "No one has said so far what they might be."

Teagan shook his head. "That's because we do not know for sure. Some call them the walking dead; decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh . . . They hit again and again each night, coming with greater numbers every time. Loghain has started a war over the throne, so no one has responded to my urgent calls for help. I have a feeling tonight's assault will be the worst one yet." The Bann hesitated, then met Alistair's eyes again. "Alistair, I hate to ask, but I desperately need the help of you and your friends."

For the first time in his life, Alistair wished he was in charge. He wanted so badly to tell Teagan that of course they would help, and to feel sure that everyone would back him up. But he'd given up leadership to Aedan, and so the choice wasn't his, no matter how badly he wanted it to be. He shook his head reluctantly. "It isn't just up to me. Though the Grey Wardens don't stand much chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon." He looked hopefully at Aedan as he said this. He could only hope that Aedan would make the choice he wanted him to.

Aedan nodded in response. "Of course we'll help. I could not just leave these villagers to die."

Morrigan exhaled loudly in annoyance, folding her arms. "How pointless, to help these villagers fight an impossible battle. One would think we had enough to contend with elsewhere."

"Morrigan -" Aedan began, but Ayla interrupted him as she turned to address Morrigan. "Yes, we have other things to contend with, but the Arl can help us with most of them. That's why we need to do whatever we can to help him."

The witch rolled her eyes in response, but said nothing further. Ever since they'd gone off hunting together the last two nights at camp, the two women seemed to have started developing a mutual respect for each other. Alistair had to admit that it disturbed him a little bit that Ayla seemed to be getting along with Morrigan, but as she'd been able to keep the witch from pestering him too much, he'd decided not to worry about it.

Teagan had apparently chosen to ignore that little aside, for he merely beamed at their party. "Thank you! Thank you, this . . . means more to me than you can guess." After sending Tomas back to his post, he continued briskly. "Now then, there is much to do before nightfall. I've put two men in charge of the defense outside. Murdock, the village mayor, is outside the Chantry. Ser Perth, one of Eamon's knights, is just up the cliff at the windmill watching the castle. You may discuss with them the preparations for the coming battle."

Aedan nodded, giving Teagan a quick bow. "We're on our way."

"Very well. Luck be with you, my friends."

Aedan headed for the door, motioning for the others to follow. Alistair felt like he owed Aedan more than ever before, for agreeing to do this. He vowed to himself that he would find some way to pay him back. In the meantime, he was going to do everything he could to save Redcliffe and its people. He felt that he owed Bann Teagan and Arl Eamon that much, at least. He could only hope that they would get the village through the night.

_Second A/N: _

_*Lyrics are taken from the song Seven Deadly Sins by Flogging Molly. If you've ever heard it, you'll know why it's a whirling, foot stomping kind of song! I figured Alistair had probably never danced just for the fun of it, and thought maybe it was time he should! I also didn't think that the Warden got to have a very good reaction to Alistair's confession, which is why Aedan does a little yelling here :). Don't worry, Ayla will have more of a reaction to his news later when they're alone. Hope everyone enjoyed!_


	10. Battling the Undead

_Author's Note: Yay, another chapter done! I think I should be able to manage weekly updates for the most part from now on. I've just realized how ridiculously long this is going to be, but I can't seem to stop now! :) As always, thanks to all those who have favorited and followed so far, I'm glad you're enjoying my labor of love! This one is from Alistair's POV again, and I think the next one will be as well. Following that, we will probably be back to Ayla's POV._

_Thanks to Kenjie11 for her kind review! I would really love some more reviews, even a few words about what you like, don't like, things you want to see, whatever. Hope you continue to enjoy the story!_

Chapter 10: Battling the Undead

It had only taken them a couple of hours to attend to all the things that Murdock and Ser Perth had asked of them. Aedan had managed to convince the town's drunken blacksmith to repair the militia's armor in exchange for agreeing to find the man's daughter in the castle once the battle was over. He'd also talked a dwarf named Dwyn, an experienced fighter, into agreeing to help the militia along with his men, by promising that he'd put in a good word with the Arl and the mayor. Alistair couldn't help but marvel at the way Aedan seemed able to talk anybody into anything. If only he could do the same!

Following that, they'd searched the village for anything useful, and had found several barrels of oil in the abandoned general store that Morrigan had suggested setting on fire, believing that it might slow down these creatures. They'd also looted all the healing supplies, weaponry, and money they could find. Alistair would have felt bad about that, but Aedan pointed out it was necessary if they were going to be able to defend the village, both from these undead creatures and the darkspawn, and Alistair had to admit he was right; they'd be no use without supplies.

They'd next headed up the hill towards the windmill, stopping in the local tavern halfway up the hill on their way. It was still in operation, at least until the sun went down. They'd eaten their dinner, and Ayla had pointed out an elf acting suspiciously in the corner to Aedan. After Aedan had begun questioning him, the elf, whose name was Berrick, had quickly broken down and admitted that he'd been sent to watch the village, weeks before the attacks began. This only made Alistair more suspicious that Loghain had been involved in the Arl's illness somehow. The elf said he was merely supposed to report any changes, and had been ordered to do so by Arl Howe.

The mere mention of Howe's name had made Aedan furious in a way he hadn't been since this whole thing began, and he'd scared Berrick into agreeing to fight for the village tonight. He'd threatened to kill Berrick if he hadn't agreed, and Alistair hadn't thought for a second that he was bluffing. Obviously the elf hadn't thought so either, for he'd quickly agreed and headed for the training area to await the battle. While he'd been doing that, Ayla had sweet-talked the bartender, Lloyd, into giving the militia free drinks, as the men claimed they'd be able to fight better drunk.

Finally, they'd headed up to the windmill to talk to Ser Perth last of all. They'd discussed battle plans, and told him about the barrels they'd found. Ser Perth had agreed that fire might be useful in the coming fight, and had sent his men to fetch the barrels and set them up at the barricades at the bottom of the hill leading to the castle, which was directly across from the windmill. Ser Perth had also requested that they ask Mother Hannah for a blessing for his knights. He stated that he and his men were otherwise as prepared for the coming battle as they could be.

They'd headed back down the hill to the Chantry, and spoke to Mother Hannah. It turned out that Ser Perth wanted something that would mean the Maker was protecting him and his knights in a real sense, but she didn't think she could do that. However, Aedan had persuaded her to play along, and she'd provided some amulets that they could give to the knights. Leliana hadn't been happy with what she saw as deceit, but Alistair and Ayla had backed Aedan up. Both knew how important morale could be in winning a battle, and how easy it would be for one simple thing to tip the scales. They'd also reported on their progress so far to Teagan, letting him know that they were very nearly ready.

After they'd returned to Ser Perth and given him the amulets, Aedan had gone over the plans for the night. He'd decided they would start out with Ser Perth's men at the base of the hill where the oil was. The militia would stay at the barricades and bonfire in front of the Chantry, as a last line of defense for the civilians inside, along with Dwyn and Berrick. From what they'd heard so far, it sounded like the hill was where the majority of the creatures would appear. Morrigan would light the barrels as soon as the creatures were close enough, and then she and Leliana would provide long range support while the others would pick off any undead that came through the barricades. Aedan had dismissed them all after that, saying they could do as they liked until nightfall, when they would meet back at the windmill.

The party had all split up after that, and now Alistair was searching for Ayla. She'd barely spoken to him unless she had to during the last couple of hours, and then had gone off by herself as soon as Aedan dismissed them. He was worried that she'd been more upset by his revelation than she'd seemed to be at the time. If only he wasn't such a coward! He should have just told her when the opportunity presented itself!

He questioned the villagers if they could recall seeing her, and finally found someone who'd seen her head towards the lake. He made his way through the tangle of wooden houses towards Lake Calenhad, which was on the edge of Redcliffe village. He found Ayla sitting on the end of one of the docks, feet dangling over the edge, looking out across the water.

He took a deep breath to fortify himself. He didn't know how exactly he was going to fix it if she was upset or angry with him, but he knew he couldn't leave it this way. He would be far too distracted during the upcoming battle. He made his way down the dock and sat down next to her. "Here you are, I've been looking all over for you."

She didn't seem at all surprised that he was there; Alistair knew she must have heard him coming. She didn't bother to look over at him, however. "Well, I've been here. Was there something that you wanted, Alistair?"

_Ouch. Yes, she's definitely not happy with me._ Her cool tone and refusal to look him in the eye left no doubt of that. "I –" he hesitated. "Are you – upset with me? Over – what we talked about earlier?" He still couldn't bring himself to say anything about his birthright straight out.

She sighed, drawing a knee up to rest her hands and chin on. "Yes. But I'm trying not to be, because I realize it's hypocritical of me to be upset with you for not trusting me with details about yourself when I haven't told you everything, either. Telling myself that and actually doing it are two different things, though. So I didn't know what to say to you. Avoiding you – seemed easier."

Alistair felt worse than ever when he realized she'd been trying not to be upset with him, and that she'd thought he hadn't told her because he didn't trust her. "No, please don't think that! It's not that I didn't trust you." Because he actually did, he realized. He knew it was strange, because she was right; she hadn't come anywhere close to telling him everything about herself. But somehow, he didn't have any doubt in his mind about it. That's why he knew he had to fix this.

"It's . . . please let me try to explain. The thing is, I'm used to not telling anyone who didn't already know. It was always a secret. Even Duncan was the only Grey Warden who knew. And then after the battle when I should have told you . . . I don't know. It seemed like it was too late by then. How do you just tell someone that?"

She turned to look at him now, and he could see a spark of anger blazing in her eyes. "You could have told me the night I asked you, straight out, if you knew who your father was! Instead, you told me it wasn't important! That was an outright _lie_, Alistair. I may not have told you everything about myself, but I would never have lied if you asked me a direct question."

"I – I know. I'm sorry." He felt very small just now. How did he always manage to screw things up so much? "It wasn't totally a lie, though. It's not something that's important to _me._ I didn't want to bring it up just then, anyway. I was really enjoying talking to you, and I – didn't want to spoil it. So I guess part of me liked you not knowing." He looked at her pleadingly, praying that she would understand he hadn't maliciously lied to her.

Her face softened a little, though she looked confused. "Are you saying you enjoyed not telling me? What makes you think that it would have spoiled our conversation that night?"

He stared out over the lake as he struggled to try to put his feelings about his birthright into words. "It's just - - that anyone who's ever found out has treated me different after. I was the bastard prince instead of just being Alistair. I know that must sound stupid to you, but I hate that it's shaped my entire life. I never wanted it, and I certainly don't want to be king. The very idea of it terrifies me."

"I think I understand," she said slowly. "When you have something about you that changes the way people look at you or think of you, it can be hard to deal with. If you have the opportunity to hide it, and just be like everybody else – I can see that being appealing."

He shoved a hand through his hair wearily, though he was growing more hopeful that she might forgive him. "For all the good that trying to hide it does me. My blood seems certain to haunt me no matter what I do. I guess I should be thankful that Arl Eamon is far more likely to inherit the throne. If he's all right, I hope he's all right. For what it's worth, I am truly sorry for not telling you sooner. I . . . I guess I was just hoping that you would like me for who I am, as just – Alistair. It was a dumb thing to do."

She scooted over closer to him, and rested a hand on his gauntleted one, giving him a sympathetic smile. "I understand why you wanted to hide it now. It doesn't matter to me who or what you are besides Alistair, because I do like you for you, and I've enjoyed talking to you also. I forgive you, as long as you promise to do me a favour."

Alistair nodded, beaming down at her in relief. She understood, and she didn't hate him. He could not have wished for anything more. "Of course, anything you want!"

She glanced away, and he saw a bit of a shadow pass over her features. "Just – remember that I forgave you for hiding this, and that I want to be recognized as Ayla only, just as much as you want to be just Alistair."

He nodded, even as his mind was running through _why_ she would want such a promise. What did she think would change how people felt about her? She couldn't possibly be worried by the fact that she'd revealed her nobility to them, could she? Because that certainly didn't matter to him. She must still be hiding something else. "Of course. But since we're being honest about direct questions, is it okay if I ask you one?"

"I –" she pulled her hand away, wrapping her arms around both her knees now. "I will try to answer it, if I can."

_What was that supposed to mean?_ Well, there was only one way to find out, he supposed. "What I'm curious about is how you don't know anything about Ferelden, or darkspawn, or anything that you should know. There has to be more to it than just your country being far away. I'm not that stupid; I know you have to be hiding the real reason for that from me." He looked at her, waiting for her answer, though he wasn't sure what exactly he expected it to be.

She sighed, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I thought this might come up sooner or later. I'm not sure that . . ." she trailed off, biting her lip.

"What, that you trust me enough to tell me?" he asked, disappointed. "That _would_ be hypocritical, you know."

She shook her head. "No, it's not that. I'm just not sure that you'd believe me, is all."

"That I wouldn't –" He was confused, he had to admit. He tilted his head, trying to puzzle it out. "Why wouldn't I believe you, if it's the truth?"

She shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "The reason why I don't know anything about Ferelden is because I'm not from this world. My country, Fallor, exists in the world of Sionac."

Alistair was stunned. Maker's breath, had he actually heard her correctly? She was from another world? As in, not from Thedas at all? Was that even possible? "There's – other worlds?" he said faintly, trying to wrap his head around it.

She nodded, studying him as if trying to discern his response to her news. "There are many worlds in our universe, each with different lands and people, different degrees of magic, different levels of contact with the World Beyond. Some, like yours, I'm guessing, are unaware of the existence of any others. In my world, however, it is common knowledge that there are many worlds besides our own. Other than that basic truth, though, we don't know much about them. That's why, when I came here, I didn't know anything about this place, other than that I was no longer in Sionac."

He was studying her in turn, trying to determine if she was really telling him the truth. He couldn't see any sign of deceit on her face, though. And really, who would even think to come up with such a lie? Not to mention, it did make a certain kind of sense, if he thought about how she had no basic knowledge of Ferelden, and no one had ever heard of the country she was from, or any of its customs. "If that's true – how did you even get here? Is it common for people from your world to travel to others?" He still couldn't believe he'd actually said "your world."

She shook her head, still warily studying him for his reaction. "Not common, no, but it has happened a few times in the past. We've also had people from other worlds come to ours, according to legend, anyway. Our world is supposed to be one of the easier ones to get to and from. The place I was at that day, Starwood Point, is known to have a crack between worlds, or a portal. It requires great magic to operate, though. It wouldn't have opened by accident."

"Great magic . . ." His mind instantly went to Flemeth. He remembered everything she'd said about Ayla not belonging and having a destiny to fulfill. That only made everything she was saying more likely. "Could Flemeth have had something to do with you coming here?"

"Flemeth?" She frowned as she considered it. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Is her magic truly that strong?"

"I don't know exactly how strong her magic is," Alistair admitted. "It's certainly stronger than anything I've ever felt before, but I don't know what her limits might be. She's said to be immortal, though."

"Immortal, huh?" Ayla said thoughtfully. "If we get the chance, I'd like to talk to her again. Anyway, does that mean you believe me?" She gave him a wry look, as if she knew it was too much to ask.

Alistair thought about it carefully. As farfetched as it sounded, and as flabbergasted as it made him, he couldn't think of any reason she would come up with such an elaborate lie. What would be the point? He had no real reason to doubt her sanity, either. She'd always been perfectly rational. "I – guess I do. It makes an odd sort of sense, as impossible as it sounds. But how do you plan to get back, if it's not just a matter of ordinary travel?"

She gave him a cheeky grin. "I told you my favour might be harder." He snorted in agreement as she continued, "Honestly, I don't know. If I was sent – or brought – here for a reason, then I might just automatically go home once it's done. Failing that, I had thought to search for a portal in your world, if there is such a thing. But if I don't have to go back, I'm not sure that I will."

"What? But why wouldn't you want to go home?" He was confused again, though he was also pleased at the thought that she might want to stay here – with him. _Leave it to me to think of something so inappropriate at a time like this_, Alistair thought wryly.

"There's nothing really for me there." She had a wistful expression on her face now as she toyed with the ends of her leather skirt. "Other than my brother, no one would really miss me there. And Fallor's at peace. I'm a warrior without a war. That might _sound_ like a good thing, but I've trained all my life to fight, and there's nothing to fight. We patrol endlessly, only to fight a few bandits or other criminals. I feel like my life has no purpose there. Here, though? There are _so_ many people that need help with so many things. I feel like I could actually make a difference here. I guess that sounds strange."

"Not so strange." Alistair thought of how he'd felt about being a Templar. He hadn't thought that he would be of any use, or actually able to help anybody as a Templar. He'd been miserable about it until Duncan came along and offered him a way out. He already felt like six months in the Grey Wardens had been far more useful than a lifetime with the Templars would have been. "I felt the same about being a Templar. Like I would have been no use. Anyway, if you are able to stay, I certainly wouldn't object."

"Oh, you wouldn't, huh?" She gave him a sly smile.

He blushed, as usual, and couldn't meet her gaze. "I just mean - - I've been glad to have you along so far, and it'd be a lot harder without you here."

"Well, I'm glad to have been of service." Her eyes were twinkling with amusement when he looked back. "And I've enjoyed travelling with you so far, I wouldn't mind continuing." She stood up and stretched. "We should get going, though. They're looking for us."

Alistair stood up, as well, noting that it was starting to get darker. They must have been talking for longer than he'd thought. "They are? How do you know?"

She jerked her thumb in the direction Alistair had come. "Leliana's calling for us."

Brow furrowing, Alistair started back down the dock, straining to hear anything other than the lake. Halfway down the dock, he finally caught the faint sound of Leliana calling their names. How had she managed to hear that? Did all the people from her world have better hearing? He glanced over at Ayla, who had followed him along the dock. She merely shrugged in response to his questioning look. "Well, I suppose we should get going, anyway," he admitted.

The two of them headed back through the houses, and met Leliana halfway back to the Chantry. "Where have the two of you been? It's almost dark, and Aedan wants us all to be ready at the windmill!"

"Sorry," Alistair replied, giving her his best sheepish grin. She didn't need to know what they'd been discussing, not yet anyway. "We didn't realize it was so close to nightfall."

"Well, let us hurry now, then, yes?" Leliana turned and began running ahead of them. They followed her towards the windmill. Ayla flashed a grateful smile at Alistair when he looked over at her. He gave her a conspiratorial wink back.

In no time, the three of them had reached the top of the hill in the gathering dusk. The others were all there already, including Ser Perth and his knights. Aedan directed everybody to take up positions, and then they waited, watching the castle at the top of the hill for their first glimpse of the undead creatures.

It wasn't long at all after the sun had finally slipped below the horizon that a mist started rolling down from the hill from the castle, creeping along the ground. It was a sickly grey color, and Alistair felt the unmistakable tinge of magic coming with it. He couldn't locate the source, and it was unlike any magic he'd ever felt before, but he was sure it was magic all the same.

"Here they come!" Aedan called out.

Sure enough, a cloud of dust was now following the mist down the hill. They began to see the signs of shambling figures in among the dust. Though the things were moving fairly fast, their gait was horribly uneven and unnatural. "Morrigan, get ready," Aedan hissed out.

Morrigan nodded curtly, and Alistair felt the build-up of her magic until there was a ball of fire hovering around the end of her staff. She waited, her eyes on Aedan as he held his hand up, watching the figures coming down the hill. When they were so close to the barrels that Alistair could start to make out the bits of armor and weapons that they wore, Aedan brought his hand down. "Now!"

Morrigan shoved the ball of fire forward with her staff, essentially throwing it. It landed square on the barrels, busting them apart and sending a cloud of fire and smoke up in the air. In no time, a fire was blazing merrily across the bottom of the hill. Everybody waited, weapons drawn, to see what the undead would make of this barrier.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the first figure came reeling out of the fire. While it was on fire, that didn't seem to deter the thing from charging towards the ranks of warriors that waited for it. Still more creatures burst out of the flames, coming towards them. "Attack!" Aedan yelled, coming forward himself with a massive swing of his sword.

Alistair charged forward as well. An arrow pierced the creature in front of him. As always, Leliana's aim was dead on; it struck right where the heart was – or should be. But the thing didn't even halt. It was horrible to look upon; it was mostly a walking skeleton, wearing armor and brandishing a sword, but there were still bits and pieces of skin clinging to its face and arms. Its eye sockets gleamed with an unholy red light, and the stench of the dead was coming off it in waves.

It swung its sword at Alistair, and he caught it on his own sword easily, lashing out with his shield. The thing stumbled back several paces, but kept coming. He ran his sword through its middle; still it didn't stop. In desperation, Alistair yanked his sword out and lopped the thing's head off. Finally, the red light went out of the eyes and the skeleton collapsed in a heap of bones and armor. "Go for the head!" Alistair shouted to the others. "It looks like it's the only way to kill it!"

"Got it!" Aedan shouted back as another swing of his greatsword separated the heads off of two of the creatures.

"If you don't have time to go for the head, you can take out the legs! It stops them from walking!" Ayla called out, using her swords to sweep out the legs from an undead to Alistair's left. She kicked another one out of her way before beheading the one she'd dropped to the ground.

The battle continued on; more and more undead poured through the flames, which only seemed to slow them down a little bit. Leliana took to aiming for the creatures' heads, and Morrigan took to freezing them, which also seemed to halt them long enough for the others to strike at their heads. Ser Perth and his knights followed the lead of their party, and the battle soon settled into a oddly comfortable rhythm for those fighting at the top of the hill.

Alistair was surprised at how easy this was, once they'd figured out the creatures' weakness. The things were even less intelligent than darkspawn, and they certainly weren't anywhere near as fast or skilled. He found it fairly simple to deflect their blows, keep them off balance, and take out their legs or behead them as needed. The others didn't seem to be having any problems either. The only thing that seemed to pose a challenge was the sheer number of them, and with the help of Ser Perth and his knights, they seemed to be holding against the numbers well enough.

He didn't know exactly how long it had been when he took down the undead in front of him and didn't see another one behind it. He tended to lose track of time in a battle. He glanced around, and saw a few other undead falling to his friends' blades, but no more coming through the fire. "Are they all gone?" he asked Ayla, as she came over to him after dispatching the one she'd been fighting.

"It looks that way –" she began, but was interrupted as one of the militiamen came charging up from the village, shouting, "The monsters are attacking from the lake! They're attacking the barricades! We need help!"

"Damn it!" Aedan cursed; he'd come up behind Alistair just as the militiaman arrived. "That's where they've gone – they're trying to attack the villagers instead!"

"We must help them!" Leliana cried out, rushing up to them as well.

Aedan turned back to the knights that were behind them. "Knights, stay here and guard the path! Sten, Striker, you stay with them!" Sten grunted and nodded, Striker barked and moved to Sten's side. "The rest of you, follow me!"

"Come on, we need to hurry!" The militiaman cried, already turning and running back down the hill towards the village. Aedan followed him.

Alistair hurried down the hill behind Aedan, Ayla close at his side. He didn't bother putting his sword away as they raced down to the village; neither did she. Morrigan and Leliana followed close behind them, Leliana with an arrow already strung on her bow.

As they reached the village, Alistair noticed that the barricades set up in front of the Chantry, around the bonfire, were indeed being swarmed by the creatures. They were everywhere, far more than there had been at the windmill, and were continuing to stream towards the barricades from the lake. The militiamen fighting inside the barriers were bloodied and exhausted.

In no time, Alistair and the others began cutting their way through the undead surrounding the barriers. As soon as they could, Leliana and Morrigan slipped their way inside the barriers and began firing at the undead from the inside. Alistair, Aedan and Ayla continued to make their way around the outside, clearing out as many as they could. Once there was a brief lull in the stream of undead creatures, the three of them found gaps in the defense of the barricade and took up positions there.

The lull didn't last long before more undead appeared, and the battle continued to rage on. Alistair soon began to lose track of time far worse than he ever had before. There seemed to be no end to the undead; the battle narrowed to the creature in front of him. He could feel exhaustion wanting to overtake him, but he beat it back, pouring all his focus and training into continuing to swing his sword and engage the closest enemy. Sometimes he would come to the aid of nearby militiamen; mostly he just concentrated on keeping the undead away from his portion of the barrier.

He was so out of it that he didn't even realize at first that the sky had finally begun to lighten. Just as he was thinking that maybe he couldn't swing his sword anymore, he realized that the darkness outside the ring of the fire was less complete. This gave him a boost of energy, and before long, the first rays of the sun began to peek over the horizon. As they did, Alistair struck down the creature in front of him and realized that there was not another one to take its place.

As he looked around, he saw that the situation was the same all over; there were only a few undead left that were currently engaged with other warriors, and no new ones behind them. He moved to help the fighter nearest him with one of the last undead, though his limbs felt leaden. And then, suddenly, there were no more.

"Is it over?" Murdock, the village mayor, asked shakily from behind Alistair. "Is it really over?"

"It seems so," Aedan replied as he approached. He looked as exhausted as Alistair felt, but didn't appear to be badly wounded. He'd already sheathed his greatsword. "The sun is up, and I do not see anymore. It would seem we won for now."

"We won?" Murdock repeated dazedly. Then, "We won!" he shouted loudly, shoving his sword into the air. The militiamen all took up the chant, shouting and cheering.

Alistair smiled wearily as he sheathed his sword. As he had done ever since the battle at Ostagar, he began to look around for Ayla, to make sure that she was all right. When he didn't immediately notice her flame-red hair nearby, he suddenly began to wonder when he'd last seen her. Usually she remained close by him during battle, as the two of them made a good fighting combination, and he was always at least somewhat aware of her presence nearby.

But he couldn't remember the last time he saw her, and panic began to rise through him in an ever-increasing whirl. No, no she had to be all right, she had to be. "Aedan, have you seen Ayla?" he asked desperately.

Aedan shook his head. "No, not recently, but I'm sure –"

Alistair didn't wait to hear the rest; he began to push his way frantically through the crowd of cheering villagers, scanning anxiously for a glimpse of red hair. Finally, he spotted it; two glimpses of red hair, standing next to each other, on the far side of the barriers from where he'd been. He let out a relieved breath as he approached, but started to tense up again when he got close. Ayla was leaning heavily on Leliana, with one blood-stained hand pressed to her right side. The archer was supporting her with an arm around her waist, while Ayla's other arm was around Leliana's shoulders.

"Ayla!" He rushed over to her, feeling a maelstrom of emotions race through him. On the one hand, he was relieved that she was alive and on her feet; on the other hand, he was panicked and terrified that she was wounded.

"Alistair!" She smiled brightly when she saw him, though she looked as exhausted as everyone else did. "I'm glad to see you're okay."

"What about you?" he demanded as he came to a halt next to her, sick with worry. "How bad is it?"

"Oh, don't worry," she assured him. "One of those things got a lucky shot in. I'll be fine; it's nearly closed over from the health potions Leliana gave me."

"I don't believe you would have been hit at all if you hadn't been shielding that militiaman," Leliana remarked. "It was very brave of you; I only wish I'd had more potions to give you, but I'd already used some myself."

"You did what?" Alistair exclaimed, even as he was fishing in his own pouch, checking on his supplies. His fingers closed around a vial, and he pulled out his last remaining health potion. "I thought I told you to be more careful!" He handed her the vial.

She took it with her blood-stained hand, opened the vial, and drank it all in one swallow, grimacing at the taste. "Thanks, and I only said I'd try," she reminded him. "These militiamen aren't real fighters; it's my duty to protect them."

Alistair sighed; he felt the same way, but still, she shouldn't be putting herself in so much danger. What if the wound had been more serious? But he knew by the glint in her eyes and the stubborn set of her jaw that he wouldn't be able to talk any sense into her. "We should get you inside the Chantry, let you rest. Leliana, can you find Morrigan and see if she can come look at Ayla's wound? She might be able to use that basic healing spell of hers, or she might have more potions."

"Of course," Leliana nodded. Alistair came over and took Ayla's arm from her, slipping it around his shoulders, and his own arm around her waist as Leliana began to move off through the crowd. Coming to a sudden decision, he bent down and put his other arm behind her knees, scooping her up in one smooth motion.

"Alistair!" she squawked indignantly, squirming in his grasp. "What do you think you're doing? I can walk!"

"Not without help, you can't," he pointed out, ignoring her attempts to get down as he began to walk over to the Chantry doors. "And this is a lot faster and easier."

"Well – but –" she stammered, her face going bright red. He thought she looked even more beautiful with a blush across her face, even if it kind of clashed with her hair. "Aren't I – too heavy?"

He snorted. "Not in the slightest." Which was true; he hadn't expected carrying her to be a problem, but even he was surprised with how light she felt in his arms. Given how skilled she was, it had been easy for him to forget how much smaller and slighter she was than him. "Now could you just let me help you, please?"

"I – oh, all right," she huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest. "But don't think you can get away with carting me around all the time."

"I wouldn't dream of it, my lady," he teased her as they approached the Chantry doors. He couldn't get over how right it felt to have her in his arms, as though she belonged. She didn't even belong in this world, she'd said so herself. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling, and now that she was here, he didn't think he'd be able to let her go.

One of the militiamen moved to open the doors for them, thanking the two of them for their help as they went by. Alistair nodded at him and made his way into the Chantry and over to where the pallets were. Other wounded warriors from the battle were being led to the pallets as well, and the remaining Sisters and townsfolk were tending to them as best they could.

One of the Sisters pointed out an empty pallet down at the end, and Alistair made his way there. He laid Ayla down carefully, kneeling down next to her. She made to sit up almost as soon as he put her down, but he gently pushed her back down. "Just rest," he said sternly. "Morrigan should be here any minute."

As if on cue, Morrigan came stalking towards them through the crowd, Leliana and Aedan on her heels. "Out of my way, you fool," she snapped at Alistair, as she made her way to Ayla's side.

Alistair scowled, but reminding himself she was here to help Ayla, he kept his mouth shut and got out of the way. The witch handed Ayla a healing potion while she downed a lyrium potion.

"Hey, Ayla," Aedan smiled down at her. "Are you doing okay?"

"I'll be fine," Ayla replied as soon as she'd finished the potion. "I've had worse wounds; nobody needs to worry about this." She stared pointedly at Alistair, who rolled his eyes in response. "I'll be ready to go when we head to the castle."

"About that," Aedan looked around at all of them before continuing, "Teagan says he has a way to sneak us into the castle. He's going to take us as soon as the village has a memorial service for the dead. The memorial won't be until noon; we're free to rest until then, and after that, we'll head for the castle and see just what's going on there. He says there's a house the rest of us can go to and get some sleep while we're waiting. As soon as you're done here, Morrigan, you should join us. The service will be in front of the Chantry; we can all meet here then."

They all nodded. "Sounds like a plan," Ayla agreed. "I'll try to get my sleep here."

"Yes, yes, fine," Morrigan said impatiently, already undoing Ayla's laces. "I'll join you as soon as I've finished with _this_ fool's wound. Why you would want to risk yourself for these villagers, I do not know."

Ayla merely ignored her, smiling up at Alistair. "I'll be fine, Alistair, I promise. Go get some rest, you're dead on your feet. The two of you, as well," she added pointedly to Aedan and Leliana.

"Yes, she's right, let's go," Aedan turned and headed for the doors. Alistair and Leliana both said quick goodbyes to Ayla before following. Alistair suddenly realized that this would be the perfect opportunity to have that discussion with Aedan about Ayla. As soon as they got to this house where they could rest, he'd talk to him. And then, he could finally go and see for himself just what had happened to Arl Eamon. He just prayed that it wouldn't be too late by the time they got there.

_Second A/N: So, one big reveal for Ayla down ;). She still has one more thing she has yet to tell Alistair, though. Don't worry, he'll find out soon enough, though it's going to be more of a "show" than a "tell". _


	11. A Castle, A Demon, and A Kiss

_Author's Note: Okay, so this chapter is really long. By the time I got to the end of it and realized how long it was, it was too late :). I considered splitting it up into two, but couldn't really find a place that I wanted to cut it in half. So, you get two chapters for the price of one this week. As you can tell by the title, there was a certain scene I wanted to get in by the end of the chapter, and with all the dialogue and things that happened in Redcliffe, it took a while. And I really wanted that scene to happen before they go to the Circle, for reasons you will later see. _

_ Again, there is a fair amount of game dialogue in this chapter, all main quest stuff, for several reasons. One, I want to include Ayla's reactions to the events and her original dialogue. Two, I want to show what's going on in the head of whichever character we're currently following while this stuff happens. And three, I want to show what sort of Warden character that Aedan is. You may notice he's getting some original dialogue as well, expanding on the limited Warden answers. Anyway, if anyone's sick of reading the game dialogue and doesn't like it, you can review the story and let me know ;). Otherwise, I'll keep going as is. I really want to see if I can fully novelize this, anyway._

_As usual, thanks to all those who have favorited, followed, and even read so far, I'm glad you enjoy it and take time out of your lives to read it! However, I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter :( which was very sad. I may have to have an artistic tantrum and stop writing if I don't get a review for this chapter ;). Seriously, though, even a few words would be greatly appreciated, whether praise or criticism! I'll shut up now ;). Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own Bioware, but I do own my character and her world._

Chapter 11: A Castle, A Demon and A Kiss

It didn't take long for them to reach the house that Teagan had offered them the use of. They had met up with Sten and Striker along the way, before Aedan brought them to the place, which was one of the bigger houses in Redcliffe. Once inside, they'd found that there were several small bedrooms that they could each use to have a few hours of rest before they would have to move on. Leliana and Sten immediately picked out rooms and shut the doors, leaving Alistair and Aedan alone in the main room of the house.

"Aedan, can I talk to you for a minute?" Alistair asked, halting Aedan before he left the main room to find a bed. He knew now probably wasn't the greatest time, given that they were both exhausted, but when would he have such a prime opportunity again where Ayla couldn't hear them?

Aedan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fine, but could you make it quick? I would really like to get a few hours' sleep before we go to the castle."

Alistair nodded. "Right, of course!" He hesitated, unsure of how exactly to phrase his question. "What exactly do you do when – well, how exactly do you tell a woman –"

"Is this about you telling Ayla you want her?" Aedan interrupted.

"I – what –" Alistair stammered, his face flushing bright red. He wouldn't exactly have put it _that_ way. He sighed in defeat. "Is it that obvious?"

Aedan grinned mischievously. "To anyone who's met the two of you for even a few seconds? Yes. To me? Completely obvious. I'm pretty sure even Striker knows." The dog barked in seeming agreement from his place at Aedan's side.

Alistair folded his arms and glared at his fellow Warden and his too-smart dog, willing his face to stop being so red. "Yes, well, anyway, I came to you for advice. I'm . . . not really sure what to do."

"Honestly, my advice would be to just kiss her. Ayla's plenty capable of stopping you if she isn't interested. Not that I think that will be a problem."

"What, you mean I should just grab her and kiss her?!" Alistair exclaimed in disbelief. When Aedan nodded in answer, Alistair felt his face go an even more interesting shade of red. "I – I couldn't do that! Without even _saying _something to her first? Shouldn't I – I don't know!"

Aedan grinned and shook his head. "You really were raised in the Chantry, weren't you? I take it that you want to woo her, then? In that case, get her a gift. Tell her how you feel about her. It really isn't all that hard." He shrugged as if to say he couldn't believe Alistair would have trouble with this.

_A gift?_ Alistair thought. _That might actually work._ That part also sounded simple enough. But – "What do I say to her, though? What did you say to Morrigan to get her to smile at you the other night?"

Aedan thought for a second, and then started laughing. "I don't think you would be able to repeat that without lighting on fire, Alistair. Just be yourself, tell her how _you_ feel. She seems to enjoy talking to you, so you must be doing something right."

"Really?" Alistair thought about it. She had said she enjoyed talking to him, after all. And oddly enough, she really did seem to. Could he really figure out what to say to her? "But, honestly, what did you say to Morrigan? You've got me curious now."

Aedan shrugged, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "You asked for it. I told her if she didn't stop tempting me the way she was, that I was going to bend her over the nearest log and –"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Alistair threw his hands up. "I take it back! I don't want to know!"

Aedan chuckled. "I didn't think so." He sobered and looked at Alistair. "Seriously, though, just give her something nice and tell her she's beautiful, if nothing else. You at least can manage that, right?"

"Well – yes, I think so," Alistair said slowly. That didn't sound so bad. Surely even he couldn't screw that up, right?

"Good." Aedan clapped him on the shoulder. "Now that that's settled, can I get some sleep?"

"Wait, I should probably tell you something about Ayla." Alistair knew it wasn't really his secret to tell, but Aedan of all people should probably know about it. So he gave Aedan a quick version of what Ayla had confessed to him the night before. He was surprised when he was done talking to see that Aedan didn't look shocked, only thoughtful.

"Hmm, so she told you about it, did she?"

"You already knew?" Alistair exclaimed, shocked. Had Ayla told Aedan before she'd confided in him? He felt hurt just thinking about it.

Aedan shook his head. "No, not for sure. Morrigan suspected she might be, given what Flemeth had told her about the possibility of different worlds and that Ayla didn't belong. And like you said, it makes a certain kind of sense, when you think about how we found her and everything she didn't know. I admit, I found it a little hard to believe at first, but Morrigan seemed very certain."

"Oh." Alistair was relieved, both because he was the only one she'd confided in, and that both Morrigan and Aedan seemed to think she was telling the truth, as well. It made the whole thing much more probable, especially if Flemeth already knew about the existence of different worlds. "But aren't you going to tell me I shouldn't get involved with her?"

"What?" Aedan scoffed. "Why would I do that? I assume you've thought the whole thing through already. And personally, I am of the opinion that if a person has a chance to enjoy themselves, they should take it. You know as well as I do that our chances of making it through this Blight alive are minimal. Why shouldn't we take whatever shots we have at happiness in the meantime?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Alistair felt better that Aedan had essentially given him permission, but it depressed him to think of how bleak their future was. He'd been trying not to think about it, and it had been pretty easy, considering all the other things that had happened and were happening. But he knew Aedan was right. The task ahead of them was daunting, and if they made it through alive, he'd consider it a miracle.

"Now I am seriously going to sleep, and you should too," Aedan prompted. "We only have a few hours before we need to head into the castle." He turned and went to find a room, Striker trailing behind him.

Alistair headed to find his own room as well, even as he thought over in his mind how he would tell Ayla how he felt. He already had the perfect gift in mind to give her. He would just have to find an opportunity sometime soon to give it to her.

* * *

They approached the Chantry a little before noon to attend the memorial service, as planned. Though Alistair could have used more sleep, considering he'd only got about five hours before washing up and coming here, he still felt fairly refreshed and ready to see just what was going on in the castle.

He felt even better when he saw Ayla come out of the Chantry, her slightly damp hair pulled back in a fresh braid. She looked completely herself again, and he felt the last traces of his worry about her disappear.

"Good morning, everyone." She smiled at the party as she approached. Morrigan was with them, having apparently come into the house to rest sometime after Alistair had fallen asleep.

The others all greeted her in return, other than Sten, who merely grunted. "Good morning, Ayla." Alistair smiled at her in return. "Are you feeling better?"

Ayla nodded. "Thanks to Morrigan's spell and the leftover potions she had, I'm completely back to normal."

"My healing would not have been necessary at all if you hadn't had some foolish notion to risk your life for some stranger," Morrigan grumbled. Alistair raised an eyebrow. If he didn't know better, he'd almost think the witch had been worried about Ayla.

Ayla opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Teagan began to address the crowd of waiting villagers from the top of the Chantry stairs. Mother Hannah was next to him. The party all stopped talking and turned to watch.

Teagan proceeded to lead the village in thanking the group for their aid last night, though Alistair noted that most of his praise went to Aedan. Regardless, it still felt good to be thanked, especially when all the villagers cheered them after Teagan's speech. Teagan wound up by saying that they would be heading into the castle next to hopefully rescue the Arl.

Mother Hannah then led the actual memorial service, lamenting the villagers who had been lost in the previous fights, as well as the two militiamen that Alistair and the others had been too late to save last night. Once the service was done, and the villagers had started to disband to begin cleaning up, Teagan gestured to their group to follow him up the hill to the windmill. Aedan led them up the hill after Teagan.

Teagan had his back turned when they reached the top, standing on the edge of the cliff by the windmill, looking across to the castle. As they approached, he turned back to them. "Odd how quiet the castle looks from here. You'd think there was nobody inside at all. But I shouldn't delay things further. I had a plan, to enter the castle after the village was secure. There is a secret passage here in the mill, accessible only to my family."

"I thought as much," Aedan replied. "Our own castle had a similar passage. Why didn't you mention this before?"

Teagan frowned, shaking his head. "I knew you would choose to enter the castle instead of staying in the village, and we needed warriors. I'm sorry if I –" he suddenly halted what he was about to say, staring past their group with wide eyes. "Maker's breath!"

They all turned to look at what had startled him so, and Alistair groaned inwardly as he saw an all-too-familiar figure running down the hill towards them, followed by a knight. A woman with strawberry blonde hair in a severe bun, wearing a tight-fitting red and pink Orlesian-style dress came to a stop directly in front of Teagan. "Teagan! Thank the Maker you yet live!" she cried in her thick accent.

"Isolde! You're alive! How did you – what has happened?" Teagan sounded more at a loss for words than Alistair had ever heard him. He couldn't blame Teagan, considering that it looked as though the undead had come from the castle last night. Personally, he'd been expecting the worst case scenario when they finally did get in there, to discover that Arl Eamon and his entire family were dead. Obviously, though, at least one person wasn't.

Lady Isolde shook her head. "I do not have much time to explain! I slipped from the castle as soon as I could following the battle, and I must return quickly. And I - need you to return with me, Teagan. Alone."

Aedan snorted at the same time as Alistair did – still inwardly, because honestly, he was still a little terrified of Lady Isolde. "We will need more of an explanation than that." Aedan folded his arms, staring at Lady Isolde.

"I – what?" Lady Isolde turned to look at Aedan, a sneer passing over her features. "Who is this man, Teagan?"

Seeing Aedan's shoulders tense at the rude address, Alistair decided he should try to intervene. Sighing, he turned to Lady Isolde. "You remember me, Lady Isolde, don't you?"

She turned her gaze on him, and her eyes widened after a moment in shock and recognition. "Alistair – of all the – why are _you_ here?" The scathing tone of her voice was exactly what he'd expected.

"What a bitch," Ayla murmured from his side, so quietly only he could hear. He looked down at her in surprise, noticing that her eyes were sparking with fury again. Was she angry for his sake? He felt warm just at the thought, and not for the first time, noticed how desirable she was when she was furious. At least, when her fury wasn't directed at him.

"They are Grey Wardens, Isolde, and furthermore, he is Aedan Cousland," Teagan stressed, staring pointedly at Lady Isolde. "I owe them – and their friends – my life."

Lady Isolde turned to Aedan, eyes wide with shock and dismay. "Ah, my Lord Cousland, pardon me! I would exchange pleasantries, but considering the circumstances –"

Alistair rolled his eyes. Of course, she would forget to include him in the apology. Feeling like a glutton for punishment, he interrupted her. "Please, Lady Isolde, we had no idea anyone was even alive within the castle! We must have some answers!"

Lady Isolde shook her head again, turning back to Teagan. "I know you need more of an explanation, but I do not know what is safe to tell! Teagan, there is a terrible evil within the castle. The dead waken and hunt the living. The mage responsible was caught, but still it continues. And I think – Connor is going mad. We have survived, but he won't flee the castle. He has seen so much death! You must help him, Teagan! You are his uncle, you could reason with him! I do not know what else to do!"

"Why do I get the feeling that you aren't telling us everything?" Aedan demanded. "I mean, Connor is only a young boy, correct? Surely you could make him go with you if you wanted."

"I – I beg your pardon!" Lady Isolde exclaimed angrily, seeming to forget who she was talking to again – and completely ignoring Aedan's perfectly good point. "That's a rather impertinent accusation!"

"Not really," Aedan said tightly. "Do not forget that you are merely an Arl's wife, while I am the son of a Teyrn. When I accuse you – especially if it's true – it is most certainly not impertinent to do so."

Alistair had never heard Aedan sound quite so much the nobleman before, and he found it a little intimidating, to be honest. Obviously Lady Isolde did too, because her anger quickly crumpled and her eyes began to fill with tears. "An evil I cannot fathom holds my husband and son hostage! I came for help! What more do you want from me?"

Before Aedan could respond – and Alistair could tell he wasn't impressed by Lady Isolde's waterworks – Teagan interrupted. "But – I do not understand what you mean by this 'evil'. Did it create the walking corpses? What is it?"

"Something the mage unleashed," Lady Isolde replied slowly, as though trying to control her tears. "So far it allows Eamon, Connor and myself to live. The others – were not so fortunate. It's killed so many, and turned their bodies into walking nightmares! Once it was done with the castle, it struck the village! It wants us to live, but I do not know why. It allowed me to come for you, Teagan, because I begged, because I said Connor needed help."

"Enough questions," Aedan snapped, obviously exasperated with Lady Isolde's theatrics and lack of useful explanations. "We need to decide what to do."

Teagan nodded, obviously having come to a decision himself. "The King is dead, and we need my brother now more than ever. I will return to the castle with you, Isolde."

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Isolde cried, clasping her hands together. "Bless you, Teagan! Bless you!"

"This is a mistake," Aedan sighed in exasperation. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"I cannot let Isolde return alone," Teagan replied, and Alistair could see by the determination in his eyes that unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to talk him out of it. "Perhaps I can help Connor or Eamon. Perhaps this really is a trap, but this is my family. I must try. I have no illusions about dealing with this evil alone. All of you, on the other hand, have proven quite formidable. Isolde, can you excuse us for a moment? We must confer in private before I return to the castle with you."

"Please do not take too long. I will be by the bridge." Isolde turned and headed back the way she'd come, the knight following in her wake.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Teagan turned to Aedan. "Here's what I propose: I go in with Isolde, and you enter the castle using the secret passage. My signet ring unlocks the door. Perhaps I will – distract whatever evil is inside and increase your chances of getting in unnoticed. What do you say?"

Aedan nodded slowly. "It does not seem like we have much of a choice, and it seems as though this is our best chance."

"Good. I would prefer to go inside with you, but I agree I have no choice in the matter. Ser Perth and his men can watch for danger at the castle entrance. If you can open the gates from within, they can move in and help you. I don't think anyone else can help you. Here is my signet ring." He handed a ring to Aedan before continuing, "It will open the lock on the door in the mill. Whatever you do, Eamon is the priority here. Isolde, me, and anyone else . . . we're expendable."

Aedan shook his head, frowning. "While I agree we need Eamon, I will do my level best to get everyone I can out of there alive." The others all nodded in agreement, Alistair especially. He didn't want to even think of leaving Teagan or anyone behind if he didn't have to.

"Thank you, my friends," Teagan smiled wearily at them all.

"So we are just going to send him with that woman?" Leliana asked incredulously. "It seems so dangerous!"

"I agree," Ayla added. "This could not more obviously be a trap even if that Isolde woman had come out and said it."

"Oh, I'm quite certain it's a trap," Aedan agreed with them. "However, I will not stop a man from going to help his family. We'll just have to sneak in and do our best to spring the trap."

Teagan nodded to him. "Thank you again, but I can delay no longer." He was already starting down the path. "Allow me to bid you all farewell . . . and good luck."

Aedan turned to them all as Teagan left. "All right, I think what Teagan mentioned would be a good idea. I'll have Ser Perth and his men wait at the front gates so we can let them in if we get the chance. Sten, I'd like to send you and Striker to wait with them. I doubt you will fit in the tunnel, and there's likely a ladder leading down into it, which will be difficult for Striker. The rest of us will enter through the tunnel."

Sten nodded. "As you wish. I will wait with these others for the opportunity to strike."

Aedan quickly took Sten and Striker with him over to where Ser Perth and his men were, and after a brief conversation with Ser Perth, left them there, returning to where Alistair and the others were waiting by the tunnel. They entered the windmill, and Aedan found the trapdoor set in the ground, using Teagan's ring to open it.

As he'd said, there was a ladder leading down into the darkness. Aedan quickly climbed down it, signalling the others to follow. Alistair waited until last, and once Morrigan had lit up the end of her staff with her magic, he closed the door behind him before climbing down.

The tunnel was barely wide enough for one person to walk through without having to turn sideways, so Morrigan took the lead with her light, followed by Aedan, Leliana, Ayla, and Alistair in the rear. He tried not to focus too much on the movement of Ayla's hips as she walked in front of him, although he caught himself looking several times.

After what seemed like forever, they finally reached a wooden door at the other end, which opened up into the castle dungeons. Morrigan put out her light, as the walls were lined with torches and they could see properly again. As they moved forward through the cells, they heard a man screaming for help, and saw a few of the undead attacking a cell at the furthest end of the dungeons from them.

The group raced forward, and between the five of them, easily finished off the three undead corpses. They all turned to look at the man inside the cell. It was obvious that he was a mage; both because he was wearing robes Alistair recognized as being from the Circle, and from the fairly weak aura of magic he was giving off. He was probably only about twenty, and had dark, shaggy hair. It appeared as though he'd been down here for a while; his face looked sunken and haggard, and his robes were torn and covered in blood. What could be seen of him was covered in bruises.

"Wait – you don't look like the Arlessa's guards!" the mage exclaimed as they approached the front of his cage. "Are you from outside the castle?"

"Are you the mage Lady Isolde mentioned?" Aedan demanded, not bothering to answer the man's question.

"You've spoken to her?" the mage asked. He looked down, his face falling. "Then you know what I did."

Aedan shook his head. "No, she didn't actually mention exactly what it is you stand accused of."

"I – I poisoned the Arl," the mage confessed. "Lady Isolde had hired me to tutor her son, but she didn't realize that I'd been hired to poison the Arl. I – I thought I was helping."

Alistair felt his mouth drop open in shock. He'd known the Arl was sick, but he'd seriously been hoping it was just a normal illness. Somebody had actually poisoned him? Had Loghain been the one to hire this mage? He felt Ayla take his hand and squeeze it, though he couldn't feel it as much as he would like because of his gauntlets. Not wanting to hurt her, he didn't squeeze her hand back, but smiled down at her gratefully. She returned his smile before turning her attention back to the mage.

"You thought you were _helping_? By poisoning the Arl and raising the dead? Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now," Aedan growled, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

"I – I know it looks suspicious," the mage exclaimed, coming forward and shaking his head. "But I'm not responsible for the creatures and the killings in the castle! I was already imprisoned when all that began! At first, Lady Isolde came with her men demanding that I reverse what I'd done. I thought she meant my poisoning of the Arl. That's the first I heard of the walking corpses. She thought I'd summoned a demon to torment her family and destroy Redcliffe. She – had me tortured. There was nothing I could do or say that would appease her. So – they left me to rot."

Aedan relaxed his stance, though he still looked suspicious. As horrified as he was that Arl Eamon had been poisoned, Alistair had to admit that this mage didn't exactly strike him as a malicious killer – or a mage powerful enough to wreak havoc on Redcliffe. He found himself almost wanting to trust what the man said. "So if you're not trying to destroying Redcliffe, why did you poison Arl Eamon?" Aedan demanded.

"I was instructed to by Teyrn Loghain," the mage answered. _I knew it!_ Alistair thought, feeling an unreasoning fury boil through his veins. Loghain seemed determined to destroy everything he held dear! He looked down at Ayla and saw the grim set to her face as she nodded back at him. "We'll make him pay for all of it," she whispered to Alistair, and somehow, he felt better, even though he knew the thought of revenge shouldn't be something to look forward to.

The mage continued, "I was told that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden, that if I dealt with him, Loghain would settle matters with the Circle. You see, I'm a maleficar: a blood mage."

"Truly?" Morrigan snorted sceptically from next to Aedan. "_You _are a blood mage?"

Although Alistair tended to agree with Morrigan's scepticism, as the young mage was not at all how he'd pictured a blood mage would look, he still couldn't help his response. He tried his best not to have Templar prejudices against mages, but he couldn't help it when it came to blood magic. As far as he was concerned, it couldn't be used for anything but evil. "A blood mage! Well _that _isn't good."

"I dabbled in the forbidden arts," the mage said, shame apparent on his features, "and they condemned me to death for it. I thought Loghain was giving me a chance to – redeem myself . . ."

"You were going to redeem yourself by poisoning someone?" Ayla scoffed.

Ignoring her, the mage cried out, "But he's abandoned me, hasn't he? Everything's fallen apart, and I'm responsible! I have to make it right somehow, I have to!"

Aedan frowned, crossing his arms. "There's something I don't quite understand. Why did the Arlessa hire a mage to tutor her son?"

"Connor had started to show . . . signs," the mage replied. "Lady Isolde was terrified the Circle would take him away for training."

"Connor? A mage? I can't believe it!" Alistair exclaimed. He'd never heard of any of Arl Eamon's family possessing magic before. The news would be devastating for Arl Eamon, as Connor was his only child and heir. It seemed as though everything Alistair had thought he knew was being turned upside down.

"She sought an apostate, a mage outside the Circle, to teach her son in secret so he could learn to hide his talent. Her husband had no idea," the mage concluded solemnly.

"So, perhaps her son is responsible for what happened," Aedan suggested thoughtfully. "It would certainly explain why she seemed to feel she couldn't make him leave the castle."

"I thought so, too!" the mage exclaimed. "Connor has little knowledge of magic, but he may have done something to tear open the Veil. With the Veil to the Fade torn, spirits and demons could infiltrate the castle. Powerful ones could kill and create the walking corpses."

"The so-called maleficar speaks truth," Morrigan said when Aedan turned a questioning glance to her. "With the Fade torn, 'twould be a simple matter for a demon to raise the dead and attack the castle and village."

Aedan nodded, turning his attention back to the mage. "I think I understand."

"I never meant it to end like this, I swear!" the mage said earnestly. "Let me help you fix this!"

"He wishes to redeem himself, doesn't everyone deserve that chance?" Leliana looked pleadingly at Aedan, who had turned to check everyone's reactions.

"I don't know," Alistair said hesitantly. He didn't really want to outright kill the man, but he didn't think it was the best idea to set him free to do what he liked. "He is a blood mage – but this is an unusual situation."

"I think he's sincere in his desire to help," Ayla offered. "I don't sense that he's a danger."

Morrigan shrugged. "Do as you like – but I think he could possibly be useful."

"Give me a chance, please!" the mage begged.

Aedan turned back to him. "I think you'll stay in your cell for now. Once we've determined what's going on up there, we may be able to find some use for you."

"All right," the mage replied, looking saddened. "If you think that's best, I have no choice but to remain here until you decide what to do with me."

Aedan waved to the group to continue on. Past the mage's cell was the door leading into the next section of the dungeons. Ayla let go of Alistair's hand as they followed, and he sighed, missing the contact already, though he knew it obviously wasn't practical to continue on through a hostile castle like that.

This was proven true, when in the very next room, they ran into several more of the undead, which began to rise from the ground around them. There were far more then there had been in the previous room, but they were still able to dispatch them without too much difficulty. Alistair made sure that this time, he didn't lose track of Ayla during the battle. He was determined to make sure he was there to shield her next time she tried something reckless. He did not want to experience that panic ever again.

Once they'd gotten rid of all the corpses, they found the stairs leading up into the rest of the castle, which appeared deserted. They began to make their way through the hallways, checking all the rooms for possible survivors. It seemed everywhere they turned, there were more undead of varying stages of decomposition, as well as formless shades that Alistair had only ever seen in books before.

Morrigan came in handy fighting those; while the others did their best to keep the shades distracted and off her, she would freeze them with her magic so that they could be shattered. Otherwise, regular weapons didn't seem to pose any threat to them. They continued on once the shades had been dispatched, checking for any more people, or the Arlessa.

In one room, they found the daughter of the blacksmith, miraculously still alive. By this time, the way behind them was clear of any danger, so Aedan told her about the secret passage, and to run back to her father. The girl was only too happy to do so, and Alistair was relieved that they'd at least managed to rescue one person so far.

When they found the door leading from the other rooms to the main hall, it was locked, and no one could get it open. Alistair knew that if they went around to the main doors of the castle, they should still be able to get in the main hall, so he led the others through the kitchen and down to the basement storage area, knowing that there was another way up to the courtyard from there.

Finally, they emerged in the courtyard, coming out of the stone wall to the right of the main doors. To their left was the portcullis leading out of the castle, and the gate was still down. To the right was the staircase leading up to the main doors.

"All right," Aedan whispered to everybody, "let's get the gate open so we can let in Ser Perth, Sten and the others, then we'll make our way into the main hall and see what's going on."

Everybody nodded in agreement, and with weapons out, they began cautiously crossing the courtyard, making their way over to the gate. As they were nearing it, Ayla cried out, "Something's here!"

The party whirled around to see an immensely tall, hideous, black-cloaked creature with an oddly spiked helmet and glowing red eyes. It bore a shield and a wicked-looking longsword. It was surrounded by more undead.

"'Tis a Revenant," Morrigan hissed. "They are extremely powerful, and hard to damage. You must beware their –"

Before she could finish her sentence, the Revenant made a pulling motion with its hand, and the whole party was knocked off their feet and pulled along the ground towards the creature. Fortunately, everyone was able to get to their feet fairly quickly. "I'll keep it busy!" Alistair exclaimed, catching the Revenant's sword on his shield, which sent vibrations up his arm. "Somebody get the gate!"

"I'll go!" Ayla sprinted off in the direction of the gate.

Aedan helped Alistair with keeping the Revenant busy, while Morrigan and Leliana stood back and fired arrows and spells at the undead surrounding it. Aedan and Alistair had just been thrown back from the force of one of the Revenant's blows when they heard the gate creaking up.

"For Redcliffe!" Ser Perth and his knights bellowed from behind them. Striker came running past, launching himself at one of the undead. In no time, Ser Perth, Sten, the knights, and Ayla joined the fight against the Revenant and the undead.

Though it took a long time, as they couldn't seem to do much damage to the creature, even with the help of Morrigan's weakening spells, the combined force of all of them eventually took down the Revenant. With Sten's last massive blow, the Revenant reeled and fell to the ground with a thud. Everybody stopped, panting and fighting to catch their breath, drinking health potions to restore themselves from the minor wounds received. Fortunately, nobody was badly injured, and when Alistair looked for Ayla, he was pleased to find her unharmed.

"'Twould seem that there is indeed a powerful demon here," Morrigan said at last. "Only such a being could summon and command a Revenant."

"Of course there is!" Aedan grumbled. "Why wouldn't there be?"

"Shall we accompany you to the main hall?" Ser Perth hefted his sword and shield. "My men and I are eager to see our Arl again."

"Yes, please do." Aedan gestured for them to follow as he made his way up the stairs. "If there is a demon in there, I suspect we could use all the help we can get."

They all made their way up the stairs and through the doors into the main hall. As they entered, Alistair was astonished to see a very strange sight – Bann Teagan was jumping and tumbling around like a jester. Connor was standing facing the doors in front of the fireplace, clapping his hands with glee as he watched. Lady Isolde stood next to him, looking defeated, her shoulders hunched. Several guards stood behind the two, at attention, not watching Teagan at all.

"What is going on here?" Ayla whispered, sounding shocked. Alistair could only shake his head in disbelief – he had no idea.

As they approached, Teagan stopped his actions with a flourish and went to sit by Connor's side. As Aedan stopped directly in front of him, Connor spoke. His voice was a horrible duet of a young boy's and the deep tones of a demon. "So these are our visitors, the ones you told me about, Mother."

"Yes, Connor," Lady Isolde replied fearfully, not lifting her head or making eye contact.

"This is the one who defeated my soldiers?" Connor continued in his horrible voice. "The ones I sent to reclaim my village?"

"Yes."

"Now it's staring at me! What is it, Mother? I can't see it well enough." Alistair could only stare in horror at the boy. Connor was – possessed? But he still looked like a young boy. From everything that he'd heard about mages turned into abominations, they were supposed to change into horrible creatures.

"This – this is just a man, Connor. Like your father . . ." Isolde said shakily, as she indicated Aedan, standing out in front of the others.

"Oh, I'm tired of hearing about him!" the demon Connor retorted angrily. "Besides, he's nothing at all like Father. Look at him! Breathing and not dying in the slightest. I could change that, mind you . . ."

Lady Isolde finally approached her son, tearfully trying to get him to look at her. "Connor, I beg you, don't hurt anyone!"

Suddenly, Connor put a hand to his forehead. The voice that came out this time was that of an ordinary young boy. "M-mother? What – what's happening? Where am I?" _Definitely not an ordinary abomination, _Alistair thought. Not if Connor could go back to being himself. But then, what exactly was going on?

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Lady Isolde cried, kneeling down next to him. "Connor? Connor, can you hear me?"

Connor, who had put his head into his hands during her pleas, suddenly turned to her and shouted in his demonic voice, "Get away from me, fool woman! You are beginning to bore me."

Lady Isolde got to her feet, looking shocked, but she turned to Aedan. "My Lord Cousland, please don't hurt my son! He's not responsible for what he does!"

Aedan scowled. He didn't have his hand on his sword hilt yet, but Alistair noticed the clenching and unclenching of his hand, as if he wished he was holding it. "It looks like he's the evil force you spoke of, and you've been protecting him this entire time?"

"Connor didn't mean to do this!" Lady Isolde cried. "It was that mage – the one who poisoned Eamon, he started all this! He summoned this demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!"

"And made a deal with the demon to do so? Foolish child," Morrigan sighed heavily, almost sympathetically, Alistair thought.

"It was a fair deal!" The demon Connor shouted, glaring fiercely at Morrigan, who was standing just a little behind and to the right of Aedan. "Father is alive, just as I wanted. Now it's my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world! Nobody tells me what to do anymore!"

"Nobody tells him what to do! Nobody!" Teagan laughed in a strangely jovial voice from his seat beside Connor. The demon had to have influenced him somehow, Alistair guessed, making him into some sort of mindless jester for its amusement. At least he was still alive. Maybe they could get the old Teagan back still.

"Quiet, uncle," the demon growled, turning to Teagan. "I warned you what would happen if you kept shouting, didn't I? Yes, I did. But let's keep things civil," it continued, turning back to Aedan. "This man will have the audience he seeks. Tell us . . . what have you come here for?"

"I . . . came here to see Arl Eamon," Aedan said warily. Alistair could tell he wasn't sure if he should anger the demon quite yet.

"So you're a concerned well-wisher! Why didn't you say so in the first place? All this sneaking around and killing is so unnecessary! But Father is so very ill. We really shouldn't disturb him. Isn't that right, Mother?" The demon demanded of Lady Isolde. Alistair could tell it was going to attack them soon, whether they directly provoked it or not.

"I – I don't think –" Lady Isolde began.

But the demon cut her off. "Of course you don't! Ever since you sent the knights away, you do nothing but deprive me of my fun. Frankly, it's getting dull. I crave excitement! And action! This man spoiled my sport by saving that stupid village, and now he'll repay me!"

Alistair reached for his sword as soon as the demon said this, as did all the others, but was surprised to see the demon Connor suddenly run off and leave the main hall through a side door. Teagan, however, had gotten up and drawn his sword, and was advancing on Aedan. So were all the guards behind him. Lady Isolde fled behind Ser Perth and the others.

"Try not to kill anybody if you can help it, especially Teagan!" Aedan yelled. "Maybe if we knock them out, they won't be under the demon's influence anymore!"

Alistair raced forward between Aedan and Teagan, blocking the Bann's sword. "I'll take Bann Teagan!"

Aedan nodded quickly. "All right!" He raced off to engage one of the other guards, as everyone began to fight the six guards behind Teagan.

Alistair continued to block the Bann's blows, trying to bash the man with his shield or get an opening to strike him with the pommel of his sword. Teagan was more skilled than he'd thought, however, and was so far proving quite capable of holding him off. Suddenly, he noticed Ayla sneaking around behind Teagan. He did his best not to alert Teagan to her presence, trying to focus on the fight instead.

Suddenly, Teagan crumpled in front of him. Ayla had brought the pommels of both swords down on top of his head with significant force, knocking the man out. "Thanks!" Alistair said. She nodded and grinned, making him feel that now-familiar swell of post-battle lust. He did his best to shake it off, telling himself sternly that now was not the time. They both looked around the hall for other opponents, but it appeared that the others had managed to subdue all the guards, using similar tactics.

Lady Isolde raced over to Teagan's side as soon as she saw the battle was over. "Teagan! Teagan, are you all right?"

Morrigan came over and cast her simple healing spell on Teagan at Aedan's request, and the man groaned and sat up. With help, he regained his feet, looking around at everyone. "I – am better now, I think. My mind is my own again."

"Blessed Andraste! I would never have forgiven myself if you had died, not after I brought you here. What a fool I am! Please," she pleaded, turning to Aedan. "Connor's not responsible for this! There must be some way we can save him!"

"I am not about to kill a child!" Aedan snapped, sounding disgusted at the mere thought.

"Clearly, the child is an abomination. There is only one way to stop it." Morrigan said this in a surprisingly gentle and regretful tone for her, but she didn't sound as though she knew any other way.

"He is not always the demon you saw," Lady Isolde said quickly. "Connor is still inside him, and sometimes he breaks through. Please, I just want to protect him!" This last statement was possibly the most sincere one he'd ever heard from her, Alistair realized.

"Isn't that what started this?" Teagan demanded angrily. "You hired the mage to teach Connor in secret . . . to protect him."

"If they discovered Connor had magic, then they'd take him away! I thought if he learned just enough to hide it, then . . ." Lady Isolde trailed off, looking defeated.

Aedan sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "Where is Connor now? Why did he run?"

"I think he ran upstairs, to the family quarters," Teagan replied.

"Violence . . . scares him. I know that sounds strange. He may have run up to his room, or . . ." Lady Isolde shrugged, as if not knowing how to finish the sentence.

"Where is Arl Eamon?" Aedan asked.

"Upstairs, in his room. I think the demon has been keeping him alive," Lady Isolde said reluctantly.

"So, if we destroy the demon, then . . .?" Teagan began hesitantly.

"Then my husband may perish, yes," Lady Isolde finished for him.

"What are our options?" Aedan asked heavily, turning to look at the others.

Alistair hesitated. He had never heard of any abomination like Connor either, so he had no idea of any alternative to killing the boy, much as he hated the thought. "I wouldn't normally suggest slaying a child, but . . . he's an abomination. I'm not sure there's any choice."

Ayla nodded. "I'm not happy with the idea, either, but the child does seem . . . unnaturally dangerous. If none of you know of another way to stop this demon, it seems like that is the only way."

"We can't kill a young boy, demon or no demon," Leliana declared passionately. "Please don't say we're considering that!"

"Connor is my nephew, but . . . he is also possessed by a demon. Death would be . . . merciful." Teagan was looking at Lady Isolde as he said this, obviously trying to convince her.

"No!" she cried in response. "What . . . what about the mage? He could know something of this demon! If he still lives, we could speak to him!"

"He's down in the dungeon. We left him alive when we found him there," Aedan informed her.

"Then we should bring him here immediately. I – I do not know how much we can trust him, but we must find out what he knows. Teagan, could you find him?" Lady Isolde looked at Teagan hopefully with this question.

"I . . . will try," Teagan replied hesitantly, "though if he resists I will not hesitate to kill him. I'll return shortly."

Teagan left the main hall, while Alistair and the others remained there waiting for him, and true to his word, he returned within a few moments with the mage in tow.

"You are lucky to be alive, Jowan, after all you've done," Lady Isolde declared, her voice vibrating with hatred.

"I didn't summon any demon, Lady Isolde," the mage, Jowan, protested. "But I did poison the Arl . . . and that started all this. I'm . . . willing to help, if you'll let me."

Alistair felt suddenly hopeful. Maybe Jowan knew something that he and Morrigan didn't. Maybe there was some way to save Connor, after all.

"The demon in Connor needs to be destroyed," Jowan declared, turning to look at Aedan. "Killing Connor . . . is the easiest way to do that, certainly . . . But there is another way. A mage could confront the demon in the Fade, without hurting Connor himself."

"What do you mean?" Teagan demanded. "Is the demon not within Connor?"

"Not physically," Jowan explained. "The demon approached Connor in the Fade while he dreamt, and controls him from there. We can use the connection between them to find the demon."

"You can enter the Fade, then? And kill the demon without hurting my boy?" Lady Isolde cried, sounding truly hopeful for the first time.

"No, but I can enable another mage to do so," Jowan responded. "It normally requires lyrium and several mages, but I have . . . blood magic."

_What? No!_ Alistair thought. They couldn't allow him to perform a blood magic ritual, even if it would save Connor! To his relief, Aedan spoke up before he had a chance to. "Blood magic is forbidden. It's not an option."

"If there's a way, I must know it," Lady Isolde said desperately. "Please! Tell us what you mean, Jowan."

Jowan turned to Aedan to make his explanation. "Lyrium provides the power for this ritual. But I can take that power from someone's life energy. This ritual requires a lot of it, however. All of it, in fact."

"So . . . someone must die?" Teagan said slowly. "Someone must be sacrificed?"

"Yes," Jowan nodded. "And then we send another mage into the Fade. I can't enter because I'm doing the ritual. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. It's . . . not much of an option."

"No, it's not," Aedan snapped. "Is there truly no other option?"

"The power has to come from somewhere," Jowan explained. "That means either lyrium or . . . blood."

"Then let it be my blood," Lady Isolde said with conviction. "I will be the sacrifice."

"What?! Isolde, are you mad?!" Teagan shouted. "Eamon would never allow this!"

"Either someone kills my son to destroy that thing inside him, or I give my life so my son can live. To me, the answer is clear."

Alistair found he was impressed with her answer in spite of himself. He had truly not thought Lady Isolde would ever be so selfless as to offer her life up for someone else's. He still didn't think it was a good idea, though. Saving someone with blood magic would not bring about anything good. So he offered his own opinion. "Blood magic! How can more evil be of any help here? Two wrongs don't make a right."

"But," Ayla said softly, "is it really our business to stop her if she wishes to trade her life for her son's?" Alistair stared at her incredulously. He understood her point, but still, how could she support blood magic? Maybe they didn't have it in her world, and she didn't understand how evil it could be. Yes, that must be it, he thought.

Morrigan nodded in agreement. "It does seem like a sensible choice, with a willing participant."

"Connor is blameless in this," Isolde declared. "He should not have to pay the price."

"It's – it's up to you, my friend." Teagan looked at Aedan as he said this. Alistair could see that Aedan's brow was furrowed with tension, as everybody looked to him to make the decision. "You know more about such things than I do, and it will be your companion going into the Fade. The decision is yours."

"There must be another way to enter the Fade," Aedan said at last, with a touch of desperation in his voice.

Alistair had never heard Aedan desperate before, and it rather alarmed him. But an alternative suddenly occurred to him as he thought of what Jowan had said earlier about power to fuel the ritual. "You can find lyrium and more mages at the Circle of Magi – if they would even do it."

Aedan suddenly looked hopeful, straightening up, his face clearing of tension. "The Circle is not far from here."

Alistair smiled, feeling sudden relief as he realized Aedan had made his decision. "That is an excellent point. One of the treaties is also for the Circle of Magi, after all." They'd have to go there eventually – why not right now, and get their support and save Connor all at once?

"The tower is about a day's journey across the lake. You could attempt to get the mages' help," Teagan said, looking suddenly relieved as well. "We could loan you a boat to get you there."

"But what will happen here?" Lady Isolde asked uncertainly. "Connor will not remain passive forever."

Aedan turned to Morrigan. "Morrigan, do you think you might be able to keep Connor in check? Jowan should be able to help you, as well, if he truly wishes to help as he says he does."

Morrigan nodded slowly. "I could use sleep spells to keep the boy unconscious while you are away. If this Jowan and I take turns, we should be able to keep him that way until you return."

"Excellent," Aedan smiled in relief. "Sten, I would also like you to remain here and keep an eye on them. If something happens, and Connor can no longer be controlled, you know what to do. But unless that happens, you are simply to watch. I will leave Striker with you as well – he hates boat rides."

Sten nodded. "I will guard the two mages while they watch over the demon. If need be, I will eliminate it." Lady Isolde gasped at this, but made no further comment.

"Then the rest of us will head to the tower," Aedan looked at Alistair, Ayla, and Leliana. They all nodded in agreement.

"Very well," Teagan agreed also. "Go to the tower quickly, then. The longer you are away, the greater the chances of disaster."

"Right," Aedan nodded. "Teagan, can you show Morrigan, Jowan, Sten and I to where Connor is? I'll make sure that he is under control before I leave. Alistair, can you take the other two and wait out by the front gates? I'll be out as soon as we're ready."

Alistair nodded. As they were all going to part ways, Morrigan dug in her pack and passed out a supply of more healing potions to the four who would be going to the tower. Then she followed Teagan and the others as they left the hall and went upstairs. Alistair, Ayla, and Leliana headed for the main doors back to the courtyard.

As they entered the courtyard, Leliana looked over at Alistair. "Why don't the two of you go on ahead? I'm going to gather up some more arrows. It looks like there's a practice field over by that wall. I'll join you in a few minutes."

They both nodded as they reached the bottom of the stairs and Leliana headed over to the wall. Alistair and Ayla continued forward to the gate. When they reached it, Alistair suddenly thought of the gift he wanted to give her. It was in his pack right now. It was probably not the most appropriate time, but they were alone and they had to wait for Aedan before they could leave. He decided it might as well be now, before he lost his nerve.

He reached into his pack and took out the red rose he'd picked in Lothering, which was still as perfect as the day he'd picked it. He turned Ayla towards him with a gentle hand on her arm, trying to calm his nerves. He was breathing too fast, and his hands were sweaty inside his gauntlets. "Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?"

Ayla looked at the rose with a startled face, then back up at him. She grinned suddenly. "Your new weapon of choice? Personally, I think you'd do better with the sword, but . . ."

Alistair laughed, suddenly feeling a lot less nervous. This territory he knew! "Yes, that's right. Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements. Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!" Sobering as he suddenly remembered his purpose in bringing the rose out, he continued, "Or, you know, it could just be a rose. I know that's pretty dull in comparison."

"You're – going to give me a flower?" she said slowly. "I've never had a man give me flowers before."

Alistair looked at her in disbelief. He was so indignant on her behalf that he forgot to be nervous or embarrassed. "You haven't? But surely the men from your world must have realized how beautiful you are! Surely some of them must have expressed an interest in you!"

She shrugged, seeming to be embarrassed as she didn't look him directly in the eye. "I didn't say that none of them were interested in me. Just, none of them were . . . sentimental about it." She smiled suddenly at him, her eyes lighting up. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course you are and you know it!" Alistair exclaimed. He simply would not believe that no one had ever told her she was beautiful before. "You're also ravishing, resourceful, and all those other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying." He grinned at her, to let her know he wasn't serious about that last bit.

"I would never hurt you. Not much, anyway," she added with a suddenly wicked grin.

Alistair found himself flustered and blushing again, since he was pretty sure he knew what she was referring to. "I – I would never hurt you either, my lady," he managed to get out at last, proud of himself for only stumbling over the words a little bit.

Watching her smirk at him, he suddenly remembered his original purpose. "Anyway, I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?' I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since. And, I did want to . . . give it to you, actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you."

Now she was blushing, he noted with surprise, her wicked grin totally gone. "Thank you, Alistair. That's a lovely thought. I . . . I appreciate it."

He smiled. If he was making her blush this time, he must be on the right track. "I'm glad you like it. I was just thinking . . . here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven't exactly been having a good time of it yourself. You've had none of the good experience of travelling with Grey Wardens, not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy, the undead and demons. So, I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this . . . darkness."

"You – wow," she said at last, as she gently took the rose from him, smelling it before carefully tucking it in her own pack. "Do you . . . really think of me that way? I just – I don't know what to say. Thank you."

She was looking at him so intensely, with such surprise and gratitude, that he started to feel horribly nervous and awkward again. At the same time, he wanted to touch her so badly he didn't know what to do. The two thoughts combined into his mind and he blurted out, "I'm glad you like it. Now if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage and get right to the steamy bits, I'd appreciate it."

A sudden wide and wicked grin spread across her face again as she closed the distance between them so that she was only standing inches away from him. His whole body tightened at her nearness. "Sounds good. Off with the armor, then."

He chuckled nervously, clenching his hands into fists to keep from touching her. "Bluff called! Damn! She saw right through me!"

"Or," she looked up at him, her blue-green eyes darkening, "if you're not going to do that, you could at least kiss me."

And just like that, he was lost. The intense urge he'd been feeling to kiss her senseless over the past few days, especially following battle, won out over everything else, and he pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers. Her arms went around his neck, one hand tangling in his hair, as she pressed herself against him. He groaned, kissing her harder as he slid one of his hands to the back of her head, keeping her in place. The other went to the small of her back, trying to press her even closer to him.

Her mouth opened beneath his and her tongue ran along his lips. Taking the hint, he opened his mouth in return, and suddenly their tongues were duelling together. She tasted amazing, he thought hazily. So heady, and sweet, and his whole body was on fire, going up in a blaze of lust. His hand drifted from her back down to her backside, squeezing of its own will, and she moaned, pressing herself more tightly against him and kissing him harder. He suddenly wished he wasn't wearing his chainmail. He couldn't feel her properly when she pressed against him like that.

It was the sudden realization that he did want to strip off all his armor, and have her right there in the courtyard, along with the fact that he could no longer breathe, that made him break off the kiss. He didn't let go of her right away, though, just stood there for a moment breathing heavily and trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

She smiled up at him, her eyes blazing with passion, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed, and Maker, but he wanted her more than ever. She suddenly took her arms from around his neck and stepped back from him, though, as he reluctantly released his hold on her.

"That – that wasn't too soon – or too much, was it?" he asked breathlessly, praying that she would say no.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "No! You should have done that days ago. Feel free to kiss me exactly like that as often as you like. Just – maybe start somewhere more private, next time."

"Good to know," he murmured, pleased beyond measure that she enjoyed it, and she wanted him to do it again. "I'll have to arrange that."

Then he suddenly realized he could hear the sound of someone walking towards them, and looking over, spotted Leliana approaching with a quiver chock full of arrows and a knowing smile. He could see Aedan a good deal further back in the distance, coming towards them. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything," Leliana said cheerfully.

Alistair was now bright red and couldn't have formed a coherent sentence to save his life. Taking pity on him, Ayla intervened. "No, not at all. We were just waiting for you and Aedan."

Leliana's smile stretched wider, and she winked at them. "Of course. Well, he's right behind me."

By the time Aedan reached them, Alistair had managed to compose himself somewhat. He was now grateful for the fact that he was wearing his armor, so that no one could see just how aroused he was. He studiously set himself to thinking about unattractive things to dampen his arousal as Aedan gestured them to follow him through the gate. The four of them then headed for the lake, so they could make their way to the tower of Magi and save Connor as soon as possible.

_Author's Note: Just in case anybody was curious, there is going to be smut in this story. It just won't be for a little while yet, because it's Alistair after all. I will put a heads up when we do get there, in case anybody doesn't want to read it. Anyway, next time we'll be back to Ayla's POV._


	12. A Circle of Nightmares

_Author's Note: Sorry, this one took me a little longer than a week! Things were a little hectic last week. I will try to get Chapter 13 up sooner to make up for it. Anyway, we're back to Ayla's POV and at the Circle this chapter. There will be a bit more involving the Circle the next chapter as well, as I couldn't quite fit it all in this one. If we're lucky, we may run into a certain elf in the next chapter too. If not, he'll definitely show up the chapter after that ;). As always, thanks to those who have favorited and followed._

_Special thanks to Arialla MacAllister, who reviewed the last chapter for me. I can't have an artistic tantrum now, but I still would love to see more reviews. Seriously, even a "Hey I like it, keep going," would be awesome. It would motivate me a lot more if I knew people actually liked it and wanted to keep reading it. Anyway, to the 12 people I know for sure like it so far, enjoy!_

Chapter Twelve: A Circle of Nightmares

Ayla sat on the deck of the boat, her back to the railing, watching the sun rise over the lake. It was coming up in a riot of oranges, pinks and reds that contrasted beautifully with the still-dark color of the lake. When they'd left Redcliffe yesterday, it had been approaching sunset, and everyone had elected to sleep almost right away, knowing that it would be a full day before they reached this Circle Tower.

She herself had just woken up from that much-needed sleep and left the small cramped cabin of the boat in order to relax out on the equally small deck. The boat they'd been loaned was really only big enough for the four of them and the sailor operating it. Ayla didn't mind though, she was just glad to be out on the open water again. Fallor bordered an ocean, and she'd always enjoyed going out on the ocean whenever she'd gotten the chance. It had been a long time since she had, though, and even going out on this lake was better than nothing. It was a relief to escape the stench of blood and death that had hung over Redcliffe. She felt like she hadn't breathed fresh air in a week.

It was also a relief to have some time to herself, she thought, especially after everything that had happened over the last few days. Everyone else was still asleep in the cabin, except the sailor, who sat in the stern facing out over the lake. He'd greeted her when she came out, but seemed content to leave her alone otherwise, for which she was grateful. She had a lot on her mind that she needed to think about.

The first thing that came to her mind, she was a little frightened to admit, was Alistair. She could admit she'd found him physically attractive from the start. That much was easy, simple, expected, even. Her growing fascination with him in general was none of the above. She knew that part of the reason for her fascination was the contrasts in his personality that he kept showing her.

He went from barely being able to look her in the eye when she flirted with him, to literally sweeping her off her feet when he'd picked her up after the battle in Redcliffe. She'd never had a man dare to do that to her before, and had been surprised by his sudden boldness. It also didn't help her level of attraction to discover that he was so strong. And then . . . there was that kiss. She'd been pleased when she'd finally been able to prompt him into kissing her, but she hadn't expected him to kiss her quite so hard – or grope her backside while he was at it. She'd quite enjoyed both, however.

Actually, if she was honest with herself, she couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed a kiss that much. It was like her blood had turned into liquid fire. So she had sincerely meant it when she'd told him that he could kiss her as often as he liked. She could deal with fiery kisses that curled her toes. In fact, she was quite happy to do so. It was the sweet words and the flower that she wasn't sure how to deal with. The flower that she was now twirling in her hands, staring at it as though it could give her answers.

None of the men she'd been with before had ever given her a gift, or told her she was rare and wonderful. In Fallor, if you wanted to mate with someone, it was a simple matter of asking. No one was offended if somebody found them attractive enough to ask for a casual tumble, and no one was offended if they were turned down. It was a very common practice. It was only frowned upon to do so if one had a life-mate, in which case they were expected to remain faithful to their mate. If they didn't do so, they were typically shunned by everyone else.

She'd been quite happy making use of the casual, no-expectations type of mating that was common practice in Fallor. She hadn't wanted anything deeper, and didn't think she would ever want – or find – a life-mate. In fact, the very idea of caring about anyone that much had terrified her. So she'd never really been romanced before – and had no idea of how to deal with it. She'd actually blushed like a green girl fresh out of training! She still couldn't believe how much this simple flower and his words had flustered her. She'd always thought that guarding her heart would be easy – and so far it had been. But it was beginning to look like Alistair might present a bit of a challenge to her defences.

She knew it was much too late to run away now, however. Besides the fact that she would never back out on her vow to help, and had nowhere else to go anyway, she was far too curious about her attraction to him to pull away, especially now that she knew what kissing him was like. She wanted to follow it through to the end. She'd just have to make sure she was careful to keep her feelings out of it. Surely it couldn't be all that hard. She nodded firmly to herself, tucking the flower away. No matter how fascinating, sweet and attractive he might be, a man was just a man, after all. She needed to focus on what lay ahead – starting with saving the young child, Connor. Everything else could be dealt with when the time came.

* * *

It was just starting to become dark when they reached the opposite shore line. They were not allowed to sail directly to the tower, as only the ferry run by the Circle itself could land at the docks, Alistair had explained. So the boat had landed on the shore near an inn, which was situated directly across from the dock where the ferry operated. They all disembarked, thanking the sailor, who promised to wait at the inn until they came back.

The first sign of trouble came as they approached the dock, after stocking up on food and supplies inside the inn. A Templar stood at attention on the dock. "That's strange," Alistair murmured as they got closer. "They don't normally bother with having a Templar guard the ferry."

Aedan frowned, but kept going toward the dock. "We'd best find out what's going on, then."

Ayla waited with the others while Aedan approached the Templar and spoke to him. The Templar flatly refused to let them across to the Circle, and wouldn't tell them why. Even Aedan revealing that they were there on Grey Warden business didn't seem to help. Finally, Aedan persuaded the Templar that his commander would be upset that they hadn't been allowed across, and they were on their way.

The second sign of trouble came as they walked in the main doors of the tower. Templars were racing frantically back and forth in the large stone room, gathering weapons. Wounded men lay on pallets against the far wall. An older, grey-haired Templar was issuing orders as their group approached. "And I want two men stationed within sight of the doors at all times. Do _not_ open the doors without my express consent, is that clear?"

"Yes ser," the other Templar saluted before heading to the barred metal doors at the upper right corner of the room, gesturing to other Templars nearby.

Ayla frowned. She'd been interested to see the Circle of Magi, knowing that it was where the mages were generally housed so they could be watched by the Templars, in order to keep them from being a danger to themselves and others. After seeing the damage that Connor had been able to wreak, she'd understood a little better why the Templars were thought necessary. But it didn't appear as though they had everything under control, after all.

"The doors are barred," Alistair said in a low voice only their group could hear. "Are they keeping people out, or in?"

"It looks to me like it's probably both," Ayla whispered back to him. The Templars that were running about didn't appear to have any desire to go deeper into the tower, but she didn't see any mages either, which meant they must still be locked inside. But what could possibly have happened? Had someone been possessed, like Connor? Surely all the mages couldn't be possessed, but if they weren't, why lock all of them up? She still didn't quite understand how mages were "managed" in this world.

Aedan sighed, shaking his head. "Something's obviously gone very wrong here, which would be just our luck." He approached the Templar that had been giving orders. "You must be the Knight Commander, Greagoir, I assume?"

The Templar turned towards them, scanning their group with a practiced and wary eye. "Who are you? I explicitly told Carroll not to bring anyone across the lake. We are dealing with a very delicate situation. You must leave, for your own safety."

Aedan gave the Commander a quick bow. "I am afraid I cannot. I am the Grey Warden Aedan, and these are my companions, Alistair, Ayla and Leliana. We require the aid of the mages to fight the darkspawn, and also have another matter we could use their assistance with."

The Commander, Greagoir, gave an exasperated sigh. "I am weary of the Grey Wardens' ceaseless need for men to fight the darkspawn, but it is their right. You'll find no allies here. The Templars can spare no men, and the mages are . . . indisposed." He began to pace restlessly. "I shall speak plainly. The tower is no longer under our control. Abominations and demons stalk the tower's halls. The Circle is lost. The tower has fallen."

"I was afraid it was something like that. What can we do to help?" Aedan asked. Ayla couldn't help but respect him for that; it was exactly the sort of thing her father would have done, and had taught her and her brother to do as well. The more time she spent following Aedan, the more she respected his leadership.

"I have sent word to Denerim, calling for reinforcements and the Right of Annulment."

_What is that?_ Ayla wondered, at the same time as Aedan said, "You cannot seriously be considering that, can you?"

Alistair turned to him, looking uncharacteristically sober. "The mages are probably already dead. Any abominations remaining in there must be dealt with no matter what."

"This situation is dire," Greagoir stated firmly, slashing his hand through the air. "There is no alternative - everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again."

"Destroyed?" Ayla cried, shocked. "You mean you're just going to slaughter everyone that's still in there?" Even if there were some abominations in there, there had to be actual people alive still. She simply couldn't agree with killing all of them. She had no problem with killing those who were already possessed; even Connor, if there had been no alternative, she would have been okay with. But not somebody who was still themselves, still human. Surely there had to be another way. She glanced sharply at Alistair, unable to believe that he was agreeing with this; he looked upset, but he merely shook his head sadly when their eyes met.

"You cannot just kill all of them," Aedan snapped. "The mages are not defenceless; some must still live!"

"If any are still alive, the Maker himself has shielded them. No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find . . . nothing." Greagoir did at least sound truly distressed about it, Ayla thought, but if he really was, why didn't he do something? Connor had sounded unnatural, but he'd looked just like an ordinary boy, and had fled rather than fight them. What did he mean when he said monstrous creatures, and why didn't he try to face them?

"If you will not look for survivors, then I will," Aedan declared. He turned to the rest of them. "Will you all come with me?"

"Of course," Ayla said firmly. "If there's anybody in there, I will not just leave them to their fate."

She looked at Alistair; she would lose a lot of respect for him if he backed out now. She was relieved when he nodded in agreement. "I'll go with the two of you, of course. If we're lucky, maybe it won't come to the Right of Annulment."

"Absolutely," Leliana smiled. "The Maker must have sent us here to help these poor people, so we must do everything we can, yes?"

"I assure you, an abomination is a force to be reckoned with, and you will face more than one." The Knight Commander sounded incredulous that they would even try.

"We are quite strong ourselves, I assure you, and it is the right thing to do. You will not talk us out of it." Aedan crossed his arms, staring Greagoir down.

Greagoir stood his ground, contemplating them for a moment before nodding. "If you succeed, I would owe you much, enough that I would pledge my Templars to your cause. Without word from Denerim, I must determine our course. Surely destroying darkspawn is a worthy goal."

Aedan nodded in return as Ayla breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps they could make everything work out yet. "We have an agreement, then."

Greagoir held up a hand to forestall them. "A word of caution . . . once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I have proof that it is safe. I will only believe it is over if the first enchanter stands before me and tells me it is so. If Irving has fallen . . . then the Circle is lost, and must be destroyed. May Andraste lend you her courage, whatever you decide."

"Then we will bring you the first enchanter," Aedan replied, before heading for the great doors that were now flanked by two Templars. Ayla and the others followed.

The Templars took down the bar for them, and their party made their way through the large metal doors into the rest of the tower. The doors were pulled shut behind them with a thud. They were left in a stone hallway, which was rather like the outer spoke of a wheel, curving away in front of them to the left, with rooms branching off to the right.

Aedan turned to face everybody. "All right, we'll make our way through the tower, checking each of the rooms for survivors. We'll also clear out any demons or abominations we find in any of the rooms. Everybody ready?"

They all nodded in response, and with Aedan in the lead, began to make their way through the first section of the tower. Judging by the bunk beds and small desks in this first area, it was where the younger mages lived. Ayla could already smell the blood and death that seemed to be everywhere in Ferelden, and wasn't surprised to find nothing but corpses, of both mages and Templars alike, in the hallway and the first few rooms. As usual, Aedan directed them to loot any poultices, potions or other supplies they found along the way.

Finally, they came to another door at the end of the hallway. As they opened it and entered, Ayla noticed several things: a glowing blue barrier blocking the open doorway across from them, a fiery being gliding across the floor towards them, and a white-haired female mage in reddish-brown robes between them and the advancing demon. As the party skidded to a halt behind her, the mage cast an ice elemental spell on the demon with her staff, killing it instantly.

Hearing them behind her, the mage turned as soon as the demon was gone, scrutinizing them all. Ayla noticed that there were a few other adult mages in the room, as well as several children. The older lady's eyes flared with recognition as she spotted Aedan. "It's you! No . . . come no further. Grey Warden or no, I will strike you down where you stand!"

Aedan spread his hands in a peaceful gesture, as Ayla and the others tensed behind him. Ayla kept her hands on her sword hilts, in case the mages suddenly attacked. "I've no wish to fight you, Wynne. What are you doing here?"

"I am a mage of the Circle. More importantly, why are you here? The Templars would not let just anyone by." The elderly mage, Wynne, continued to eye Aedan warily.

"Honestly? We came here seeking the aid of the mages. We had no idea what was going on when we decided to come," Aedan responded.

Wynne sighed wearily, relaxing a fraction. "And you were told that the Circle was in no shape to help you, I suppose. So why did the Templars let you in? Do they plan to attack the tower now?"

Aedan shook his head. "No, they are waiting for reinforcements."

Ayla relaxed her stance, noticing that Wynne seemed willing to talk so far. "They said something about a Right of Annulment, but it doesn't seem like they're ready for it yet." Ayla still couldn't believe that they were willing to just destroy everything. This Wynne and the others with her were proof that there were still mages alive and well in the tower.

Wynne began pacing back and forth with this news. "So Greagoir thinks the Circle is beyond hope. He probably assumes we are all dead. They abandoned us to our fate, but even trapped as we are, we have survived. If they invoke the Right, however, we will not be able to stand against them."

"That is why we came," Aedan declared. "We have no time to waste; we must clear the tower of the abominations as soon as possible."

Wynne suddenly relaxed, looking hopeful for the first time since they'd come through the door. "If you are here to kill abominations, let me help you. I erected a barrier over the door leading to the rest of the tower, so nothing from inside could attack the children. You will not be able to enter the tower as long as the barrier holds, but I will dispel it if you join with me to save this Circle."

Aedan nodded. "Of course we will help you."

"That is why we're here," Ayla agreed. "We wanted to find any survivors that might still be in the tower."

Wynne smiled, obviously relieved. "Once Greagoir sees that we have made the tower safe, I trust he will tell his men to back down. He is not unreasonable."

"I believe Greagoir said he will only accept that it is safe if the first enchanter says so." Aedan turned to look at the others for confirmation; Alistair nodded to him in response. Ayla noticed a look of concentration on his features, and wondered if he'd been keeping his Templar abilities at the ready in case the mages did decide to attack.

"Then our path is laid out before us," Wynne responded firmly. "We must save Irving."

Aedan began heading towards the barrier on the far side of the room, and Ayla and the others followed. "Then we should set off immediately."

Wynne turned to the other adult mages that were waiting nearby. "Petra, Kinnon, look after the others. I will be back soon."

"Wynne . . . are you sure you are all right? You were so badly hurt earlier. Maybe I should come along," one of the mages said, concern lining her face.

"The others need your protection more," Wynne replied soothingly. "I will be all right. Stay here with them . . . keep them safe and calm."

"We will not fail," Aedan called back over his shoulder to Wynne, "but we have no more time to waste. Let us be off."

Wynne nodded in agreement, making her way towards their party. "If you are ready, let us go end this."

They all stopped in front of the barrier, allowing Wynne to go up next to Aedan. After a brief discussion between the two, and a final warning to be ready from Wynne, the mage dissolved the blue barrier with a flash of magic, and they made their way into the next portion of the tower, leaving the other mages behind them.

Just around the corner from the room where they'd met Wynne, they entered a library, lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves and books. As they entered, they were suddenly attacked by hideous creatures. Far taller than any human, they still had a somewhat human appearance, standing on two legs, but their torsos and heads were grotesquely swollen and mutated, grey masses with tattered remnants of robes hanging off them.

Alistair and Aedan immediately took point, distracting the creatures while Leliana fired arrows, Wynne cast magic, and Ayla herself snuck around behind the creatures in order to backstab or hamstring them if possible. Though the creatures were fairly difficult to fight, being so large and strong, there were fortunately only two of them, and the five of them were soon victorious.

Ayla looked over at Alistair, who was standing nearby. "I'm assuming those are the abominations everyone has been talking about?" She could now see what Greagoir had meant by monstrous creatures; those things were not like Connor at all. She had a little more sympathy for the Knight Commander now, even if she did still think he was a coward.

Alistair nodded soberly. "That is what a mage becomes, if they allow a demon to possess them. Those were some of the weaker ones, I think."

Aedan frowned, sheathing his sword. "Well, let's hope we don't run into more than a couple at a time, then. At any rate, we should keep moving."

The five of them continued making their way through the first floor. They did not find any more survivors, although there seemed to be abominations around every corner, and more of the fiery beings as well, which Alistair explained were rage demons. Though some of the battles were intense and difficult, as they did run into larger groups, they were able to make it through without any major disasters. Wynne proved to be invaluable, both for her offensive magic and her healing spells, which were much more potent than the single one that Morrigan knew.

On the second floor, they encountered a survivor almost right away: a strange mage named Owain. Ayla found his lack of emotion disturbing, until Alistair explained to her in an undertone that he was something called a Tranquil, which was essentially a mage stripped of their powers, which also seemed to strip them of emotions. This apparently made it so he wasn't in danger of possession, but Ayla couldn't help but be horrified anyway. How could anyone think this was okay? Ayla was sure the Goddess Herself would be horrified at the idea of people taking away others' emotions, yet apparently the Chantry condoned the idea here. She shook her head in disbelief, but decided to keep quiet; this wasn't her world, after all.

Aedan and Wynne spoke to Owain while the others waited. From what Ayla could overhear, a mage named Niall had taken something called a Litany, which apparently protected one from the influence of blood magic. Wynne explained that if they ran into blood mages, it was possible that any one of them could be controlled by the mages, unless they had the Litany. Ayla didn't understand this whole blood magic thing; blood magic did not exist in her world, that she knew of, but apparently it was forbidden, and if it could truly influence people's minds, she could understand why. The thought of someone else having control over her actions was frightening, to say the least. Aedan decided at last that they would find Niall and aid him in whatever he was trying to do. Owain elected to wait behind in the stockroom, as apparently it had been safe so far. They left him behind as they went in search of Niall.

They continued battling their way through the rooms, encountering more abominations, hostile blood mages, which Alistair neutralized with his Templar abilities, and even more of the walking corpses they'd seen in Redcliffe. Ayla would have been quite happy with never running across those things again; she couldn't stand the smell of them, and it didn't get any better when they were killed yet again.

It was all made worth it, however, when they came across another mage who'd survived by hiding in a closet. Ayla was pleased that they were continuing to find survivors, proving that Greagoir fellow wrong. It had been the right thing to enter the tower and check, instead of locking everyone away and abandoning them. The new survivor elected to stay where he was, as well, until everything had been resolved, and the party kept going.

Things began to get less encouraging after that encounter, however. Each room they went in seemed only to reveal more abominations, demons, and corpses, both walking and not. The first enchanter's study was empty, and the amount of dead bodies seemed to increase the further into the tower they went. More and more of them were piled on the floor, and the mess and devastation around them only seemed to get worse. Wynne expressed her fear that they would not find anyone else alive.

It was shortly after she said this that they found two more tranquil mages being attacked by a particularly strong abomination accompanied by shades and corpses. Though this was the most difficult battle they'd faced so far, they were able to save the two mages. Ayla knew it was most likely only due to Wynne's help; her healing and defensive magic were incredible, and had kept herself and the other three from succumbing to any serious injuries so far. As before, the tranquil mages decided to stay where they were, though Ayla wasn't sure why they would want to. This room was decidedly the most disgusting and disturbing so far, with fleshy sacks of blood and pus attached to the walls and the statues. But with no time to argue, they could only continue on, leaving the two behind.

The higher they went, the worse things seemed to become. On the next floor, they encountered not one, but two desire demons that were controlling Templars, and were unable to save any of the Templars, having to kill both the demons and the men alike. The worst of them, Ayla thought sadly, was the one who'd been influenced to think he was defending his wife and children. She was only too happy to make sure the demons were good and dead after that. Though the desire demons were manipulative, and possessed some magic, they weren't all that hard to defeat, fortunately.

The next demon they came across, however, was an entirely different story. It looked just like the abominations that they'd come across, only larger. As soon as they entered the room, it turned to study them. "Oh, look," it drawled. "Visitors. I'd entertain you but . . . too much effort involved."

"Killing demons is entertainment enough for me, thanks," Aedan snapped, reaching for his sword. He had about as much patience as Ayla did for demons.

Ayla was reaching for her own weapons as well, but her limbs felt strangely leaden and sluggish. It was like pushing through mud. She'd never felt anything like it before.

"But why? Aren't you tired of all the violence in this world? I know I am. Wouldn't you like to just lay down and . . . forget about all this? Leave it all behind?" With each word that came out of the demon's mouth, Ayla could feel the leaden numbness weighing ever more heavily on her. Looking around, she could see the others were starting crumple under the weight also.

"Can't . . . keep eyes open," Alistair gasped to her right. "Someone . . . pinch . . . me."

"I'll not listen to your lies, demon." Though Leliana was trying to sound forceful, she could not seem to get her words out any better. "You have no . . . power over me . . ."

"Resist!" Wynne cried. "You must resist, else we are all lost . . ."

Ayla was fighting as hard as she could, since the very thought of falling asleep in front of this demon and falling prey to it was utterly terrifying to her. But she could feel herself sinking to the ground even as she protested. "I will not . . . I cannot allow it . . . Goddess . . ."

The demon pierced them all with an intense gaze. "Why do you fight? You deserve more . . . You deserve a rest. The world will go on without you."

The last thing Ayla heard before she hit the ground was Aedan saying, "No, we have to save them . . ."

* * *

She was furious, Ayla decided as she stalked through this strange place. Absolutely furious. That thrice-damned demon had not only tried to trap her in some illusion, but it had actually tried to make her think her father was still alive. As soon as she found it, it was going to be in pieces. Tiny pieces! Maybe she'd even shift forms so she could rip it apart herself, limb from bloody limb!

"Ayla, is that you?" she heard a voice float over to her from her right.

She whipped in that direction, swords out and at the ready. Aedan stood several feet away in the shifty haze that seemed to pass for this world, hands up. "Don't attack, it's just me," he said hastily.

"Prove it," Ayla snapped. Ordinarily she'd be able to tell; but none of her senses were working properly in this world. She couldn't smell anything, and her instincts felt dull, hazy and cut-off. Even her eyesight didn't seem to be working entirely properly; things that were farther away seemed blurred. She bloody well hated it here.

"Uh . . . we were in the Circle and some demon made us fall asleep?" Aedan shrugged. "I am not entirely sure what you want me to say . . . but we are in the Fade, and we need to get out. You're the first of our group I've found."

Ayla relaxed her stance, though she couldn't make herself feel comfortable enough to sheath her weapons. All the "people" in her illusion had been bound and determined to make her forget everything that had happened before. Aedan was as straightforward as always. Surely it had to be him. Besides, unlike her illusion, she wasn't in any place that was familiar to her. It was some sort of rocky island with odd, shrunken plants and crumbling stone ruins all around. "The Fade? Is that what this . . . _place_ is?"

Aedan nodded, coming closer to her. "It's where the demons and spirits live and come from. Mages can travel in it freely, if they use lyrium. Ordinary people like us should only come here when we dream. That demon trapped us in here, trying to keep us in some never-ending dream."

"Well, how do we get out?" Ayla demanded impatiently. "I cannot stand it in here, and I have a demon that I would very much like to kill."

Anger flashed across Aedan's face, turning his grey eyes almost silver. "You and me both," he said grimly. "Anyway, before I found you, I found that mage Niall. He has been trapped in here as well. He says that demon is called a sloth demon, and probably rules this whole section of the Fade. It's on a center island, surrounded by five other islands, that are guarded by lesser demons. We'll have to defeat them all to break the wards and get to the sloth demon."

"Perfect," Ayla declared, sheathing her swords. "Any plan that involves more demons dying sounds like an excellent one to me. But where is . . . everybody else?" She'd just barely restrained herself from saying, _Where is Alistair?_ She was ashamed to admit she'd worried about him before anybody else, when she'd broken free of the illusion and realized she was alone.

Aedan gave her a knowing glance as though he'd guessed what she'd wanted to say. "They're probably trapped on the outer islands. This is one of them; I got here after I defeated the first of the lesser demons. If we defeat the other four, we should be able to get to everybody else."

Ayla nodded. "Let's go then. The sooner we break free of this place, the better."

Aedan turned and began heading back the way he'd come from; Ayla followed him through the strange haze, trying to ignore the panicky feeling rising in her. She didn't know exactly what was causing it, but thought it was probably due to the dulling of her normally keen senses.

"So," Aedan began as they walked, "were you trapped in a dream when you first came here? I was."

Ayla scowled, clenching her fists. Thinking about it only made her furious all over again. "Yes. I was back home, at the Order, training with my brother. And . . ." she hesitated, glancing over at Aedan before continuing. "Alistair was there, only it was like he'd always been there, you know? Like he belonged. Everything was fine at first; I didn't even realize it wasn't real. But then my father came in, and I knew. I saw his dead body; there's no way I would ever forget that day. I knew there was no way he could be alive, so I rejected him, and suddenly everybody attacking me. So I killed them all, and then I was free. What . . . did it make you see, if you don't mind my asking?"

Aedan's face was black with anger again, but he sighed and began to relate his own story. "I suppose it is only fair, since you told me. It was pretty much the same as yours. I was back at Highever, and my family was all there. Morrigan was there too." He gave her a wry grin. "Well, not the Morrigan that we all know, but a version of her that would fit in my life in Highever. But I knew, just like you did. I've seen my family dead, and Highever burning. I rejected the fake version, same as you, and broke free in the same way. That sloth demon will pay for trying to make me think they were alive - and forcing me to kill demons that looked just like them." His voice was vibrating with fury by the time he'd finished.

"I know exactly what you mean," Ayla said in a low voice. "I'll try to leave you some when we get there, but I cannot promise anything."

"Same here," Aedan said coolly. "Now let's find everybody else and see if they are still trapped in their dreams."

They made their way through the Fade, using the magical pedestals that transported them to the different islands, and fighting the spirits, dreamers, and demons that blocked their way. Every island they went to was some twisted version of the real world, and full of battles. After what felt like hours of fighting, they'd finally defeated all of the lesser demons on all of the islands, and the wards were gone. They used the pedestal to go to one of the outer islands first, deciding that they would find all of the others before going after the demon.

The first island they went to was the one where Alistair was trapped. The rocky, ruined and desolate island was so small that they saw him right away, as soon as they got there. He was standing next to a woman – well, something pretending to be a woman, anyway – with short red hair wearing a homespun dress. There were several children around and behind them, surrounding a bonfire.

Ayla felt unaccountably jealous and angry when she saw that there was not a version of her there. It didn't seem fair – he'd been in her dream, why wasn't she in his? Who was this woman, that he was content to dream he was with her, and have children with her? She was working up to a good level of fury as they approached Alistair and the fake people, when Alistair spotted her and Aedan, and his face lit up.

"Hey, it's good to see you, Ayla! I was just thinking about you! Isn't that a marvellous coincidence? Oh, and Aedan, you're here too! This is my sister, Goldanna," he indicated the "woman" standing next to him, "these are her children, and there's more about somewhere. We're one big happy family, at long last." He finished with a beautiful smile spread across his face.

Well, now she felt better, Ayla had to admit, her fury deflating. He was dreaming of his sister, not some other woman being his lover. But since when did he have a sister? She looked at Aedan in confusion; he shrugged in return, looking equally confused. It appeared Alistair was still keeping secrets from the both of them. She felt a little guilty that they were going to break him out of this dream that seemed to make him so happy, but she wasn't about to leave him here.

Aedan came up next to Ayla. "It is good to see you as well, Alistair. But . . . you know those are demons, right?"

Alistair grinned and brushed this off. "Oh, that's what everyone says about their relatives, but I've never been happier."

"I'm overjoyed to have my little brother back," the demon Goldanna piped up. "I'll never let him out of my sight again!"

"May we borrow him for a moment? We have business elsewhere." Aedan crossed his arms, staring at the demon Goldanna in challenge.

Alistair backed away a few steps, shaking his head at Aedan. "I . . . don't think I'll be coming. I don't want to spend my life fighting, only to end up dead in a pit with rotting darkspawn corpses."

Ayla frowned. She couldn't blame Alistair for not wanting to leave a dream that made him happy to go back to a place of death and destruction, for duty's sake. Time to try a different tactic; just trying to talk to Alistair was obviously not going to work. She could only hope her idea would. "Let me handle it," she whispered to Aedan, as the demon and Alistair talked about staying for supper and mince pie, and he nodded. "Keep it busy if you have to." She turned back to Alistair.

"We'd love to stay for supper," she turned her best charming smile on Alistair, who grinned in return. "But can I talk to you in private for a second, over here?"

She gestured to a spot several feet away from "Goldanna", and Alistair nodded. "Of course." He followed her over there, as Aedan casually stepped between them and Goldanna, asking her something about her mince pie. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked her as they stopped, facing each other.

"I know that you're happy here, and I'm sorry to do this, but this place, and those people, aren't real." Ayla couldn't help but feel bad as she recalled his beautiful smile from earlier. If this sister of his actually existed in real life, she vowed she'd help him find her so that he could have this for real. "You're real, I'm real, and . . . this is real."

So saying, she closed the distance between them, and going up on tiptoe to take his head in her hands, pulled his mouth down to hers. He froze for a second as she kissed him, probably in shock or surprise, before he began to kiss her back, even harder than he had the first time. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground and crushing her against him with a groan. She felt an electrifying tingle sweep through her from the vibration of his groan, and the reminder of how strong he was.

She wrapped her arms around his neck in turn, trying to keep her balance as best as possible as the fire swept through her, making her throb with longing. She wished, not for the first time, that neither of them was wearing armor, but especially him, because it kind of hurt to be crushed against chainmail. Not that she would stop just because of that, however. He tasted as good as she remembered, and she loved the untutored fiery enthusiasm of his kiss as his tongue swept through her mouth. She'd almost forgotten the purpose of what she was doing when she heard Aedan clear his throat loudly behind her, and she unwrapped her arms from around Alistair's neck, pushing lightly at his chest.

He pulled away, taking deep, steadying breaths as he set her down lightly, not letting her go immediately, however. "Ayla, it really is you, isn't it?"

She shivered at the look of pure lust and wonder on his face, his hazel eyes almost black with desire. "It is really me, and it is really Aedan with me, but nothing else here is real. Do you remember what we were doing before, or how you got here?"

He frowned, his forehead furrowing with concentration. "I – it's a little fuzzy, that's strange." He shook his head, ignoring the demon Goldanna's call behind him to come have some tea. "No, wait, I remember a . . . tower. The Circle . . . it was under attack . . . there were demons. That's all I really remember."

She nodded, pleased that she seemed to be getting through to him. "That's right, and then we encountered the sloth demon, do you remember? He made us fall asleep."

"Yes, I – I think I do. Then . . . this is a dream? But it seems so real." He was looking at her in pleading disbelief.

"Of course it's real!" The demon Goldanna's voice was right behind Ayla. She whirled, startled that she hadn't heard the demon approaching. Bloody Fade! She would never have been taken by surprise in the real world! The demon had stalked over to them, followed closely by Aedan, who was already reaching for his sword. "Now wash up before supper and I –"

Alistair looked back and forth between the demon and Ayla as he interrupted the demon. "Something doesn't feel quite right here. I . . . think we should go."

Ayla sighed in relief, refusing to study just how relieved she was that they were going to free Alistair from this dream. "Yes, you should come with Aedan and I. We'll get you out of here."

"No!" Goldanna shouted in a horribly deep, raspy voice. "He is ours, and I'd rather see him dead than free!"

Aedan and Ayla drew their swords, and Alistair followed suit, stepping in front of Ayla as the demon Goldanna launched itself at her, bashing it with his shield, knocking it back several paces. Ayla moved to take on a "child" that had been going for Alistair's unprotected back, while Aedan engaged some of the other demons posing as children. The demons weren't particularly powerful, especially the ones posing as children, so it didn't take long at all for the three of them to defeat every demon there.

"G-Goldanna?" Alistair was staring in disbelief at the corpse that was supposed to have been his sister, having sheathed his sword already. Aedan and Ayla sheathed their weapons as well, coming up alongside him. "I can't believe it. How did I not see this earlier?"

Aedan clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We're in the Fade, it's not like the real world. It's difficult to know what's real and what's an illusion here."

"Yes, uh, well, try not to tell everyone how easily fooled I was." Alistair turned to look down at Ayla, smiling gently at her. "Thank you for . . . uh, waking me up, so to speak."

She cast him a wicked grin, enjoying the adorable blush that spread across his face as she did so. "I'll wake you up like that as often as you like."

He was opening his mouth to reply, still blushing, when suddenly, a mist started to swirl around him. "Are we going now? Wait, where are you going?" His voice was rising in panic as the mist swirled faster. "What's happening to me? Ayla? Aedan?" Just as Ayla reached out to grab his arm, he disappeared, and her hand passed through the air where he'd been standing.

"Alistair!" She was feeling that sudden rising sensation of panic again, now mixed with fear, and she didn't like it at all. She wasn't used to being afraid. "Where'd he go?" She demanded of Aedan, turning to him.

Aedan shook his head, looking startled. "I have no idea. Maybe he woke up completely and isn't in the Fade anymore? Maybe it's because he didn't figure out it was a dream on his own like you and I did?"

"Well - -" she puffed out a breath of air, ordering herself sternly to calm down. Panicking wouldn't help, and Aedan was probably right that Alistair had just woken up properly. They still had to find Wynne and Leliana, anyway. "I suppose we should just keep going then, see about finding the other two."

Aedan nodded. "That's the only thing we can do, I think. Once we get through this place and confront the sloth demon, we'll know for sure what is going on." He glanced at her as they headed over to the pedestal. "I'm certain he's all right."

"Of course he is," Ayla tossed her head, refusing to look him in the eye. "I'm not worried!"

Aedan regarded her skeptically, but didn't say anything further as they left the island. She focused on thoughts of finding the others, and killing the sloth demon. It had even more to answer for now than before, and she could not wait until they found it and confronted it.

_A/N: I really hate going through the Fade in the game, which is why I basically skip over any detailed mention of it. But I like the trapped in dreams idea, so I still wanted to do that, which is why I didn't cut the Fade altogether. _


	13. Sloth and Pride

_Author's Note: Once again, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, August has been a crazy and hectic month for me so far. I sincerely hope to have the next chapter up a lot faster. Unfortunately, I did not get to put a certain elf in this chapter, but it will definitely happen next chapter, which will also be from Alistair's POV. _

_Thanks once again to those who are favoriting, following, lurking, and reviewing. It would really be awesome if a few more people gave me some feedback, however! Please R & R!_

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns Thedas and related events, I own Ayla and all related events to her._

Chapter 13: Sloth and Pride

They had found and freed Wynne next. Unlike everyone else so far, Wynne had not been trapped in an illusion that was designed to make her happy; she'd been trapped in a horrifying nightmare, surrounded by the dead bodies of dozens of mages, believing that she'd failed to save the Circle. Ayla wasn't sure why the demon had chosen a true nightmare for her. Was it because she was a mage, unlike the others?

When Ayla and Aedan had come upon her, she'd accused them of abandoning her, of not being around to help her like they'd promised. They'd both tried their best to convince her that what she saw wasn't real, but in the end it had been Aedan who had gotten through to her, who had convinced her to concentrate until she realized something was wrong. This had been followed by all the corpses suddenly rising up and talking to Wynne, and when that hadn't worked, they had attacked as usual.

Ayla didn't know whether to be alarmed or relieved that Wynne had disappeared just as Alistair had following the defeat of the demons. Aedan seemed willing to believe that this meant they were just waking up, and that it was because they hadn't broken free on their own. But what if it wasn't? What if she and Aedan got out of this place altogether, and none of the others did? She tried to shake herself free of that thought as they made their way to the next island. She was not worried; she was not afraid. If no one else made it out, she would survive. She would be fine.

"By the way, that was an interesting method you used to break Alistair free." When Ayla looked over at Aedan, he was smirking at her, grey eyes twinkling.

Appreciating the distraction from her thoughts, she grinned back. "Well, it worked, did it not? Perhaps you should try it on Leliana when we find her."

Aedan laughed, shaking his head. "No thanks, I'd rather not be killed."

Ayla was amused. "Who do you think would kill you, Leliana or Morrigan?" She knew that Aedan and Morrigan were attracted to each other, and it was only a matter of time now before Aedan went to her bed. It was one of the many things she and Morrigan had discussed while out hunting previously.

"Both?" Aedan suggested, making Ayla laugh. "Seriously, though, I am pleased that things appear to be working out for the two of you." He paused, looking over at her before continuing, "I know Alistair has told you that he was raised in the Chantry, but I doubt that you fully realize what that means, being from another world."

Ayla nearly froze in shock before recovering herself and continuing on. "You know about that? And you believe it? How did you know?"

"Alistair told me at Redcliffe after the battle. He thought I should know, being the leader of this odd little group of ours. But I already suspected as much, since Morrigan had already spoken about her own suspicions to me." He frowned thoughtfully. "Hard as it was to believe at first, it made sense the more I thought about it. And it seems Flemeth is certain of the existence of other worlds."

Ayla was surprised about a lot of things, not the least of which being that everybody was taking the idea of another world so well. There was also the fact that Morrigan had discussed the possibility with Aedan. The witch had never asked her or mentioned anything. Morrigan did, however, know her other secret. She'd caught Ayla practicing the shift outside camp one night to make sure she could still do a full one in the leather armor. Ayla hadn't realized she was there, as Morrigan herself had been shifted at the time into the guise of a bird. It was only when she'd flown down and confronted her that Ayla had realized her mistake.

The two had discussed their powers at length after that. Morrigan's powers were apparently due to her magic, and were not limited to just one shape as Ayla's were. And though Morrigan had asked many questions, none of them had been about where Ayla was from. The two had spent time after that hunting together in their shifted forms, and Ayla had found herself starting to form an odd friendship with the woman. It had been a relief to have somebody not only know about her abilities, but accept them as well, though she had asked Morrigan not to reveal them to anyone else just yet. Apparently she had not, though she'd somewhat revealed Ayla's other secret.

"Well," Ayla shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts, "it is good that you know, I suppose. Have you told the others?"

"I don't believe there is a need to," Aedan responded. "Nobody else knows the circumstances of how you joined us, so they shouldn't be suspicious. And the qunari are not exactly an . . . easily accepting sort of people. It might be best if Sten never finds out, and I'm not sure how well Leliana would do with the news either."

Ayla nodded. She didn't have a problem keeping it secret from the others. After all, what good would the knowledge do them? "What were you saying about Alistair and the Chantry?"

"Oh, yes, what I meant to say was that the Chantry is very strict about certain things. Most people who serve the Chantry are required to take vows of celibacy. And though Templars are occasionally allowed to marry, they need special permission from their commander, and are otherwise expected to remain celibate. Not that all of them do, of course. But those that are raised in the Chantry from a young age often have little choice or even opportunity. Though I don't know for certain, I would suspect it's been the same for Alistair." Aedan was frowning, obviously not fully approving of the Chantry's beliefs.

Ayla could only shake her head in astonishment. How meddlesome could one religious order be? It seemed entirely unfair to expect such a thing from those that followed them. It would explain a good deal about Alistair, though. "So, you are telling me to be patient with him, then," she guessed.

Aedan tilted his head as though considering it. "Yes, I suppose I am. Mostly I just wanted you to understand where Alistair is coming from, to give him time if he needs it. I would guess they have no such restrictions in your world, from the look on your face."

Ayla shook her head slowly. "No, in our world mating is viewed as a natural thing, not something to be ashamed of. But I can certainly give him time if he needs it." She was far too interested in the fire he invoked in her, so unlike anything she had ever felt before, to give up on him now. She could wait as long as she needed to.

"Good," Aedan began, but stopped as they arrived at another pedestal. "Ah, it looks like we have found the last one. Leliana must be on the other side."

"Well, let's hurry and get her. I cannot wait to get out of here." Ayla wasn't sure how much longer she could stand this place.

The two used the pedestal to travel to the final island, where they found Leliana praying, with a demon in the guise of an elderly priestess standing next to her. Ayla wasn't quite sure what to make of this illusion. It didn't appear to be either a nightmare or a happy dream, that she could see. Certainly Leliana couldn't be content to only huddle there and pray, yet neither was it a true nightmare on the scale that Wynne's had been.

Furthermore, Leliana did not seem to recognize them at all. When they addressed her, she only turned to the "priestess", saying, "Revered Mother, I do not know these people."

"Do you not remember? We're your friends," Aedan pressed, but from the confused look on Leliana's face, it was clear that she didn't.

"My suggestion is probably looking better now, isn't it?" Ayla murmured to Aedan, who merely rolled his eyes at her before going back to trying to convince Leliana of their identities.

Leliana continued to claim she didn't know them, and the demon told them to leave her alone to pray in peace. Eventually, Ayla had the idea of mentioning the dream that Leliana had stated was her reason for coming with them in the first place, and it finally succeeded in breaking through to Leliana. She decided to leave with them, remembering that she had a purpose elsewhere, which of course prompted the demon to attack.

Since there was only one, it was not at all difficult for the three of them to defeat it, and almost immediately afterwards, Leliana disappeared in the swirling mist, just as Alistair and Wynne had. Ayla still had no idea whether to think of that as a positive thing or not.

She exchanged a look with Aedan, who merely shrugged. "There is nothing to do but move on. Once we defeat the demon and break free, we'll know for sure what happened to the others."

She nodded, knowing the wisdom of his words, but she still couldn't shake the concern that plagued her. "There is only the sloth demon left now. Let's defeat him and get out of this place."

They made their way quickly back through the islands, using the pedestals, until they found the one that led to the center island, where Niall had said the sloth demon would be. They used to cross it over, and were not disappointed when they arrived on the desolate, circular island: the sloth demon was right there, seemingly waiting for them.

The sloth demon was different in appearance than when they'd seen him in the Circle; he now had some sort of pointed helmet covering the upper half of his face, while the bottom half only showed a horrible skeletal mouth. In fact, his entire body was rather skeletal looking, as though it were only bones covered by stretched skin, and adorned with red and gold sashes, shoulder guards, and chains.

"What do we have here?" the sloth demon drawled as she and Aedan approached. "Rebellious minions? Escaped slaves?" He laughed in a disturbing fashion. "My, my, but you do have some gall. But playtime is over. You all have to go back now."

Before either she or Aedan could respond, knowing that it would result in the fight they both wanted so badly, the white mist from earlier drifted past them. She and Aedan both turned, only to see Alistair suddenly appear behind them.

"Oh, here I am! Ayla, Aedan, where did you two go? You just disappeared. Well, no matter!" Alistair shrugged as he smiled at them both, obviously not caring what had happened. Ayla felt awash with inexplicable relief at seeing him standing there. She ruthlessly squashed the urge she felt to fling herself in his arms, even with the sudden unbidden memory of how right it had felt when he had hugged her after Ostagar.

"Alistair! Are you all right?" She couldn't stop the inane question from tumbling out; he obviously wasn't injured.

"Of course I am," he answered, a puzzled expression crossing his face. This was followed by a sudden, slow smile. "Why, were you worried about me?"

Ayla was fortunately saved from having to respond by the sudden appearance of Leliana and Wynne, on either side of Alistair. They both instantly zeroed in on the sloth demon, advancing forward to stand with Aedan.

"You tried to keep us apart. You led us from each other because you fear us. Don't you?" Leliana demanded of the demon, crossing her arms.

"You will not hold us, demon. We found each other in this place and you cannot stand against us." Wynne spoke in a commanding tone, obviously having gotten over her shaken confidence of earlier.

"If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time. I'll make you much happier." The demon was once again speaking in that slow, soothing tone he'd employed on them in the tower, though it seemed to lack the power it had had then.

"I don't want anything you offer," Aedan growled at him, turning back to face him, his hand going for his sword. "I will kill you for making me see them again."

"I made you happy and safe. I gave you peace. I did my best for you and you say you want to leave? Can't you think about someone –" Ayla cut off the demon's diatribe by throwing one of her daggers directly at him, unable to contain her fury any longer. Now that she knew everyone was safe, she was free to slaughter this demon as she saw fit. The demon dodged her dagger expertly, though it did have the fortunate effect of making him shut up.

"The only thing that you can do to make me happy is to die screaming," she snarled as she pulled out her swords. "Trying to use my father against me was the first of many mistakes you made!"

"You wish to battle me? So be it . . . you will learn to bow to your betters, mortal!" The demon exploded with sudden power, taking the form of one of the lesser demons they'd fought, the one that had looked like an ogre.

Ayla launched herself into the fight, Aedan right at her side, both of them uncaring about safety or finesse at this point. The others were quick to join them, Leliana firing her arrows and Wynne casting support magic and other spells aimed at the demon. Alistair had raced to join her and Aedan, and took the blow of the ogre on his shield before swinging his sword at the legs.

The battle raged on from there; just as Ayla had stabbed her swords into the back of the ogre's thighs, bringing it to its knees for Alistair and Aedan to deal a finishing blow, another explosion of power knocked them all flat. As they struggled to their feet, they realized the ogre was gone, replaced with a flaming rage demon, similar to the one she and Aedan had fought earlier.

They renewed their attacks on the demon; Ayla didn't care what form it took, she was going to make it pay. The battle continued on in the same fashion; each time they thought they were about to deliver the finishing blow, an explosion would knock them down, and the sloth demon would take on a new form. Ayla soon realized he was cycling through the forms of the lesser demons they'd faced.

Finally, they forced the demon back into the form he'd been in when they first confronted him. This form was more difficult than any of the others, but they all kept fighting, more determined than ever to break free of the Fade. Finally, they delivered the finishing blow; Ayla leapt to the thing's shoulders, stabbing her swords into either side of its neck, at the same time that Aedan ran his sword through its chest.

The demon crumpled to the ground as they both withdrew their weapons and Ayla jumped down. She was wondering what to expect, if the defeat of the sloth demon would just make them wake up, when a mage appeared in front of Aedan.

Ayla and the other party members stood back and watched as Aedan spoke to the mage; she soon realized it was Niall, as he thanked them all for defeating the demon and freeing all those who were trapped. He also told Aedan to take the Litany of Adralla from his body to protect against someone named Uldred, who was apparently leading the blood mages. He explained that unlike them, he had been trapped here too long and would be unable to return to his body. After Aedan had promised him they would do everything they could to save the Circle, Ayla felt blackness overtake her vision, and everything disappeared from in front of her.

* * *

This time, when she awoke, she was back in the Circle Tower, laying on the cold stone floor. Though the smell of decay, death, and rot hit her nostrils so hard she almost gagged, she was immensely relieved to be able to smell again, to feel the cold stone beneath her. She got to her feet and looked around, hearing noises around her that indicated the others were waking up as well, and though the view wasn't exactly pleasant, at least it was sharp and in focus. She never wanted to be back in that place again; not having the use of her senses had made her feel weak and helpless. Both were sensations she loathed more than anything.

As she looked around, she realized she felt utterly exhausted, not in the strange, leaden way that the sloth demon had caused, but in the way that meant she'd been awake and fighting for far too long without food or rest. She felt herself suddenly sway as her knees threatened to give way. Before they could, however, Alistair's strong arm wrapped around her waist, supporting her and keeping her on her feet.

"You're exhausted!" Alistair exclaimed. "You both are." Ayla followed his gaze to Aedan, who was leaning heavily on his greatsword, looking as weary as she felt. "How long were you two fighting your way through the Fade looking for the rest of us? You need to rest."

"I have no idea how long it was. It felt like hours, but how many, I have no idea." Ayla was surprising herself by leaning against Alistair's side, only too happy to let him support her. Had she not been so exhausted, she didn't think she would have done it; it would be so easy to become addicted to the feel of his strong arms around her, but so dangerous. "But we do not have time to rest."

"She's right," Aedan added, trying to push himself to stand up straight, waving off Leliana's attempts to help. "We have no idea how long we were in there, and the Right of Annulment could arrive at any moment. We have to get to the top, find the first enchanter, and defeat this Uldred before the whole tower is purged."

"But—" Alistair began, but Wynne cut him off. "I have a rejuvenation spell that will help, it will temporarily boost their stamina and restore their energy. We are nearly to the top anyway; we should find the others soon."

"Excellent, please do that if you would, Wynne, and we will be on our way." Aedan looked expectantly at Wynne, and she crossed over to him, casting her spell, surrounding him with a warm blue glow. Ayla watched as the lines of weariness left his face, and he straightened up, sheathing his sword.

Wynne next crossed over to Ayla to perform the spell, as Aedan searched the body of Niall, lying on the floor next to the body of the defeated sloth demon. It was an impressive spell; Ayla could feel the warmth spreading through her body, restoring energy to her limbs, and lifting the fog of exhaustion from her brain. She noticed the curious and not entirely approving gaze Wynne was bestowing on her and Alistair, who had not yet let go of her, but she ignored it. It was none of the old woman's business, after all.

Once the spell was complete, Ayla pulled away from Alistair, murmuring her thanks, with a feeling of regret that she also chose to ignore. She could not come to depend on him; it wasn't wise. Aedan straightened up, having found the Litany, and tucking it in a pouch, he gestured for them to move on.

They continued on through the remaining floors of the tower, finding only one more person alive before they reached the very top. A Templar by the name of Cullen was trapped in some sort of mystical prison by the stairs leading to the topmost room of the tower, and had obviously been both physically and mentally tortured. He was shouting about illusions and how about how he'd been forced to watch them kill "her" right in front of him, and been unable to do anything about it. Ayla felt cold at his words and at the obvious emotional damage that had nearly rendered him insane; her greatest fear was to see someone she cared about die in front of her and be unable to stop it. She didn't think she would be able to survive such a thing.

Aedan spoke to him, trying to determine what happened and if anybody else was still alive; once the Templar was able to accept the fact that they were real and not an illusion, he told them that the rest of the mages were in the Harrowing chamber at the top of the tower. He told Aedan to kill everyone up there, shouting that they were all blood mages now, that none could have survived. Aedan flatly refused to do so, however, saying that they needed to see what was going on first. Leaving Cullen ranting behind them, as they could not free him from his prison, they all continued up the stairs, ready to confront Uldred.

When they entered the circular chamber at the top, they saw a mage surrounded by abominations and a balding, older mage, all of whom were casting lightning spells directly into the mage's body as he screamed in agony. "Do you accept the gift that I offer?" the bald mage was shouting in glee.

Ayla glanced around the room, noting that there were three mages lying on the ground off to the right. One was an older, grey haired mage with a beard, while another was a pretty young woman her own age with long black hair. The third was a brown-haired man of middle age. Though they all looked wounded, they were still alive, and not abominations.

A horrible scream jerked her attention back to the bald mage, just in time to see the mage being tortured turn into an abomination. Aedan stalked forward, fury emanating from him, and Ayla was only too happy to follow along with the others. She suspected that the bald mage was the Uldred that Niall had referred to, and likely the cause of everything that had happened in the tower. She could not think of anyone who deserved to die more.

"Ah, look what we have here. Intruders," the bald mage turned to them with a sickening smile. "I bid you welcome. Care to join in our . . . revels?"

Aedan drew his sword, and everyone followed suit. "I'm just going to kill you, if that's all right with you. I'm getting kind of tired, and I'd really like to leave now."

Uldred smiled viciously at him. "Fight, if you must. It will just make my victory all the sweeter."

"Don't forget the litany," Wynne hissed. "It will thwart Uldred's attempts to control the mages and win this fight for us."

As she spoke, Uldred suddenly turned into a massive purple demon in front of their very eyes, covered in spikes, with horns protruding from his head. He was even larger than the ogre that they'd fought at the Tower of Ishal. Alistair cursed from his spot next to Ayla. "A pride demon. That's just wonderful."

Aedan dodged the sudden swipe of an immense fist. "Leliana, see if you can take out his eyes!"

"Right!" Leliana nodded before she began firing arrows at the demon's head.

"Think we can use that same move we did on the ogre?" Ayla asked as she and Alistair began following Aedan's lead, dodging and circling the demon as they fought the three abominations accompanying it. Arrows and magic flew by them.

Alistair shook his head, blocking an abomination's arm with his shield before running his sword through it. "I don't think it will work, at least, not head on. The ogre was slow and stupid; pride demons are known to be fast and very dangerous. We should try to take out its legs while Leliana goes for the eyes."

Ayla nodded, and the two of them finished off the abominations with the help of Aedan and Wynne. They then began the dance of trying to circle around behind the demon and deal damage to its legs, while Leliana fired at its eyes and Aedan distracted it from the front. Every so often, the demon would shout something about accepting its gift again, and Aedan would yell out some words that must have been from the Litany, causing a protective barrier to spring up around the three mages.

Eventually, she and Alistair were able to cause enough damage to the demon's legs and tendons that it stumbled to its knees, at the same time that one of Leliana's arrows struck home in its eye. As the demon roared in fury, Ayla gestured to Alistair, and he nodded. Once again, he gave her a boost into the air; this time, she flew at the demon's back, and landed there with her swords. The demon let out another roar of fury and tried to shake her off, but she held on grimly and used her swords to start climbing its back as Aedan and Alistair stabbed at it from below.

She made it up to the thing's neck and, clinging to one of her swords, used her other hand to pull out one of her daggers and stabbed it straight up into the base of the demon's skull. It gave a wordless cry before it began to topple forward. Off-balance, Ayla wasn't sure she could ride it down without falling, so she leaped clear, hoping she'd land without too much damage.

She did not expect to land in Alistair's arms, but he caught her neatly, only stumbling back a couple of steps before stopping, holding her in his arms the same way he had in Redcliffe. "Well, it's not every day that beautiful women just fall from the sky." He grinned down at her.

"That was an excellent catch, good ser. Perhaps you should be rewarded for that." She gave him a wink, watching a slow smile spread across his face even as his cheeks turned pink.

"Oh? What sort of reward will I get? Cheese?" He asked teasingly, even as his eyes went dark with desire again, sending tingles throughout her body.

"I will have to think about it," she responded airily. "But for now, we should get these mages out of here."

He nodded, turning sober as he set her down lightly. "You are right, of course."

Everyone went over to the three mages, who were struggling to their feet. Though they looked as exhausted as Ayla had felt earlier, and had minor wounds all over their bodies, they were still well enough to stand, even the grey-haired mage who was obviously quite elderly.

"Maker, I'm too old for this," the grey-haired man groaned as he stood up.

"Irving! Are you all right?" Wynne cried as she rushed to his side.

"I've been better," the old man responded wryly. "But I am thankful to be alive. I suppose that is your doing, isn't it, Wynne?"

"I wasn't alone. I had help," Wynne gestured to Aedan, Ayla, Alistair, and Leliana, who were all helping the other two mages to their feet. Aedan gave the female mage one of his healing potions, while Leliana offered hers to the other man.

Irving nodded in gratitude at the four of them. "The Circle owes you all a debt we will never be able to repay. Come, the Templars await. We shall let them know that the tower is once again ours."

"Very well, let us go back now." Aedan nodded in agreement, as he offered his arm in support to the female mage.

"I'll need one of you to guide me down the stairs . . ." Irving beckoned to them, and Alistair went over to help him, supporting the old man as they began to make their way towards the stairs leading out. Ayla and Leliana offered their support to the other man. "Ah, curse whoever insisted the Circle be housed in a tower," Irving muttered as they started down the stairs.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Ayla noticed that the mystical prison had disappeared, and Cullen was waiting for them. She expected him to start shouting that they should have killed the mages; what she didn't expect was for him to look at the female mage as though he'd seen a ghost.

"Terra?" he breathed, staring at her in disbelief. "I – I saw them kill you. Right in front of me."

"Cullen!" the woman cried, pulling free of Aedan and flinging herself into the shocked Templar's arms. "You're alive!"

"I – yes," the man responded dazedly even as his arms automatically went around the dark-haired woman. "But you – I thought I saw –"

"That was just an illusion they used in order to try and break you, I imagine," Irving said quietly, seeming not to be as surprised as the other mages, who were staring at the two in shock. Wynne looked a little disturbed and disapproving as well, Ayla noted. She supposed that if the Chantry frowned on Templars having relationships, they almost certainly disapproved of Templars being with the mages they were supposed to neutralize. She couldn't help but notice how Cullen suddenly looked much less broken and bitter than he had when they went up the stairs.

"Thank the Maker," Cullen muttered, tightening his hold on the woman and burying his face in her hair.

"While I am glad everything worked out for you," Aedan said, "it is likely best that we get everyone back down to the Knight Commander before he decides that we are not coming back."

Cullen looked up, startled. "Oh, of course. There should be no need for the Right anymore, if all the blood mages are defeated."

Aedan nodded in confirmation, and everybody began making their way back down the tower, this time with Cullen supporting Terra, while Aedan took over from Ayla and Leliana to help the other mage. It was much quicker to make their way through the tower without having to fight abominations or demons, and they reached the bottom in what seemed no time at all. After leaving Terra and the other mage with the group that Wynne had been with in the beginning, they made their way to the double doors, which were opened from the other side after a quick discussion through the doors.

Greagoir reared back in surprise as they all came through the doors, Irving in the lead being supported by Alistair. "Irving? Maker's breath, I did not expect to see you alive."

"It is over, Greagoir. Uldred . . . is dead," Irving said heavily, not sounding as pleased by the fact as Ayla thought he should be.

"Uldred tortured many of the mages, turning them into abominations," Cullen said soberly to his commander. "Fortunately, the Wardens and their allies arrived in time to save a few of them."

"We were simply lucky to have arrived when we did," Aedan replied. "We could not have managed it without Wynne's help, either."

"We will rebuild," Irving said firmly, pulling away from Alistair to straighten himself up. "The Circle will go on, and we will learn from this tragedy, and be strengthened by it."

Greagoir nodded, studying the group seriously. "We have won back the tower. I will accept Irving's assurance that all is well." He turned to Aedan. "Thank you. You have proven yourself a friend of both the Circle, and the Templars."

Aedan shook his head. "We merely did what had to be done," he hesitated, exchanging a look with Alistair before continuing, ". . . but we do still need aid to fight the darkspawn."

"I promised you aid, but with the Circle restored, my duty is to watch the mages. They are free to help you, however. Speak to them," Greagoir answered, gesturing to Irving.

"I thought the Templars were in charge of the Circle." Ayla looked at the commander, confused. Her understanding had been that the Templars made the mages do their bidding.

"The Templars guard and advise, but the first enchanter has the last word in what happens to the Circle. Please, excuse me," Greagoir was already turning his back, heading to direct his men. He turned briefly. "And Irving . . . it is good to have you back."

Irving smiled. "Ah, I'm sure we'll be at each other's throats again in no time."

As Greagoir headed off, signalling Cullen to follow as he barked orders, Irving turned to Aedan and the other members of their party. "Here we are, the tower in disarray, the Circle nearly annihilated . . . though it could have been much, much worse. I am glad you arrived when you did. It's almost as thought the Maker Himself sent you."

Aedan shook his head, looking uncomfortable with the praise, though Ayla wondered herself if it wasn't the work of the Goddess that had sent them here at just the right time to save the few lives that they had. "We are glad that we could help, but, it was the Blight that drove us here to seek aid."

Irving nodded. "The least we can do is help you against the darkspawn. I would hate to survive this only to be overcome by the Blight."

"I thank you . . . but there are so few mages left," Aedan said hesitantly, looking uncertainly at the first enchanter.

"Do not underestimate us. Even one mage will be a great help to you. You have my word, as first enchanter. The Circle will join the Grey Wardens in the fight." Irving bowed his head to Aedan, who bowed in return.

Wynne came forward from where she had been standing by Leliana. "Irving, I have a request: I seek leave to follow the Grey Wardens."

Irving frowned, looking at the elderly woman. "Wynne . . . we need you here. The Circle needs you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but the Circle will do fine without me. The Circle has you. These people are brave and good, and capable of great things," Wynne said, gesturing to Aedan and the others. "If they will accept my help, I will help them accomplish their goals."

Aedan glanced at the other three, who all nodded in return. Though Ayla was getting the feeling that Wynne might be a little judgmental, she knew that her skill with healing magic would be invaluable. Aedan turned to Wynne. "We would be honoured to have you join us, Wynne. Your healing magic would be of great help."

Irving sighed and shook his head in defeat. "You were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had elsewhere."

"Why stay when I can be of service elsewhere?" Wynne asked reasonably.

"Then I give you leave to follow the Wardens, but know that you will always have a place here." Irving turned back to Aedan. "There is much to be done here, and I must go. You must forgive me for not being a proper host."

Aedan held up a hand to stop him. "Wait, we have one more favour we would ask of you. Can the Circle go to Redcliffe to aid a possessed child?"

"The child is possessed? But killing the demon would mean killing the . ." Irving trailed off, his brow knotted in confusion. "Unless you intend to enter the Fade? Yes . . . yes, it can be done with a group of mages." He nodded firmly. "I shall gather what mages I can and we shall leave promptly. A life is at stake."

"Excellent," Aedan smiled in relief, and Ayla heard Alistair breath a sigh of relief as well. "We have a boat waiting by the ferry that you can use to take back across the lake to Redcliffe. It will only be large enough to carry you and the other mages you can gather; we will have to make our way back on foot. Companions of ours are already there, keeping an eye on the child. Please let them know we will back as soon as we can, and I would ask that you please go ahead with the ritual as soon as you return."

"Of course." Irving went back to the room where they had left the other mages, returning in a few minutes with three other mages and carrying packs. All of them headed down to the ferry docks, where the Templar that had brought them over earlier was still standing guard.

Their group took the ferry back across first, and then waited on the shore until the boat returned with Irving and the other mages. Aedan had meanwhile gotten the sailor out of the inn and explained that he would be taking the mages back to Redcliffe while the rest of them walked. As soon as Irving arrived on shore, the sailor took him and the other mages and set off back across the lake.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I would like a hot meal and a rest at the inn here before we set out," Aedan stated, turning to look at the others.

Ayla nodded; she was feeling exhausted again, and she still had no idea how long it had been since she had slept or ate last. "I couldn't agree more. I believe Wynne's spell is starting to wear off."

"I imagine it is," Wynne responded. "While it is effective, it is no substitute for proper rest and food."

"I think we all deserve a little rest, no?" Leliana smiled at the others. "We accomplished much at the Circle."

"Well, I am starving," Alistair declared cheerfully. "And it will be a long walk back, so we may as well rest first. Let's go inside."

They all went into the inn, in order to get a hearty meal and a good night's rest before setting off again. Ayla hoped that their walk back would be far less eventful than the last few days. After all, she still had to find a time when she wasn't quite so exhausted to give Alistair the reward she had promised him.


	14. Meeting With A Crow

_A/N: Next chapter is here! We finally get to meet Zevran, hope everyone enjoys! As always, thanks to all those who are lurking, following, and those who have favorited. It's great that you're enjoying the story!_

_Special thanks go to PheonixTears589 for her very nice review, and to Arialla MacAllister for kindly reviewing the last few chapters for me. Please R&R, everyone, feedback makes my muse happy!_

_Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age, I own the rest._

Chapter 14: Meeting With A Crow

Alistair was relieved to be back on the road again. Going to the tower had been even worse than he'd thought it would be; he'd gotten a very terrifying vision of what his future might have held if he'd stayed with the Templars. It was something he never wanted to see again if he could help it. Not to mention, the whole ordeal had been exhausting, with the constant fighting and lack of sleep or food.

It had been a relief to spend the night at the inn and get as much food and sleep as they wanted. After discovering they'd been in the tower for well over a day, Aedan had not set any time to leave for Redcliffe, merely saying that when everyone was finished sleeping, they could leave. Given that the mages were on their way back and could perform the ceremony without them, Aedan had said there was no reason they should have to push themselves into the ground to return faster. It would take at least four days circling around the lake on foot for them to get back.

Aedan and Ayla had both slept a few hours longer than anyone else. The others hadn't bothered trying to wake them, knowing that they'd been more exhausted than any of them, having fought their way through the Fade while the others were still trapped in their illusions. They had all left once they were both awake, and continued on their way back to Redcliffe.

He knew that both of them assumed that he'd only been trapped in the illusion they'd found him in. Glancing over at Ayla as she walked beside him now, he wasn't sure whether he would tell her or anybody about the one before that.

Duncan had been alive in his first illusion, and they'd been at the Grey Warden headquarters in Denerim with other Wardens, none of whom he'd ever seen before that illusion besides Aedan, although at the time he hadn't realized that. It had been a day of celebration, because he had been getting married to Ayla. It hadn't been the false Duncan that had alarmed him. No, he'd readily believed the explanation that Duncan, grievously wounded, had survived at a Chasind hut in the Wilds and found them later after he'd recovered. After all, they'd never actually seen Duncan's body.

No, it had been the false Ayla that had led him to the conclusion that nothing he saw was real. It had been little things nagging at him to start with; her saying that they no longer needed to help anyone, that they could go live a quiet life alone together. He hadn't thought that Ayla would ever say those things, but he hadn't been sure until the kiss.

It wasn't that the kiss had been horrible, which was really embarrassing for him to think about, but it hadn't been the same. He hadn't felt that blazing lust, that sweet heady taste, or the overwhelming desire to have her. He'd pulled back in shock, accused her of being an impostor. The demon had protested at first, of course, but seeing his persistent doubt, it had attacked. Unfortunately, he'd hesitated for a second, not quite able to bring himself to attack something that still looked just like her, and that had been all it took. After that, he'd become trapped in that other illusion.

The other illusion had been much more successful. He'd never actually met his sister Goldanna; he'd only just learned about her shortly before the Blight began. He'd been meaning to mention her to Aedan and Ayla, and ask about possibly visiting his sister if they were ever in Denerim. Never having met her, he hadn't been able to identify a fake. And the demon hadn't bothered with anything more elaborate he might catch onto, like trying again with Ayla. He had missed her, though, feeling like she should be there and wondering why she wasn't.

He'd been relieved when she and Aedan had finally arrived, although everything had still been so hazy that he hadn't been able to accept at first what they were saying about the illusion. It wasn't until the real Ayla had kissed him that everything had flashed back; he'd remembered the first illusion, and realized that it really was her. That second kiss was everything he'd remembered the first to be, and more. It was also what had made him realize that she was the only one who could make him feel that way; even if he thought it was her, it wouldn't be the same.

Which was both amazing and terrifying for him to realize. He'd already been worried about losing her; how much worse would it be if he lost her now, knowing that he might never feel that way again? He knew it was far too late to try to reason with himself now and pull away from her, though. He'd become addicted to her touch, to the feel of her in his arms, to her kiss, her smile and her sparkling eyes. He was fairly certain he was falling in love with her; he just wasn't sure what to do about it.

He knew that she desired him; that much was obvious, though he had no idea why. What could a beautiful, experienced woman want with _him_? Was it simply a lack of other available options? But if it was, why did it seem like she'd been worried about him back in the Fade? Did that mean she cared? Would she ever feel the same way about him as he did about her?

Well, there was no point in worrying about now, he decided as they continued walking. The only thing he could do was keep moving forward, and hope that he could protect her so he could find out if she ever would feel the same way. He glanced over at her again as they walked; as always, he felt that urge to touch her that was only becoming stronger now that they'd kissed. He wanted to know how it would feel to be able to touch more of her, to not have any armor in the way when she was in his arms, to run his hands over her lush curves when they were bare. Just imagining it sent jolts of lust through him. But now was hardly the time, he reminded himself sternly. They weren't alone, and they needed to get back to Redcliffe as soon as possible.

He looked around as they continued, trying to keep his mind off of her. The sky was a glorious blue, and the late afternoon sun was warm and bright; both were welcome changes from the oppressive stone of the Circle tower. The area they were currently moving through had a lot of hills and cliffs, and often the path they took led them through enclosed valleys surrounded by said cliffs. It occurred to him as he looked around that this would be a good place to set up an ambush; he remembered Duncan mentioning that he should be extra cautious in places like this. Just as he thought this, he saw a figure running towards them in the distance. Aedan held up a hand to halt the group from his position in the lead; they all stopped and waited as the person ran towards them.

It was a woman, Alistair saw as she got closer, a young woman in a plain homespun dress, her blond hair flying around her face as she ran frantically up to them. "Oh, thank the Maker! We need help! They attacked the wagon; please help us! Follow me, I'll take you to them!"

Before Aedan could even respond, she'd turned around and begun running back in the direction she'd come. Right towards one of those enclosed valleys, Alistair noted. He'd also noticed that she had an aura of magic about her. Nothing so powerful as Wynne's, but she still could pose trouble. He didn't have the greatest feeling about this.

"She is leading us into a trap," Ayla announced in a low voice, glancing after the woman.

Aedan looked in the direction in which the woman had gone as well, then back to Ayla. "What makes you say that?"

Ayla shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Just a gut instinct, I suppose."

Alistair nodded. "I agree. The woman is a mage, and she's leading us to an area where it would be easy to ambush someone."

Aedan looked at him with surprise. "A mage, is she? That does make it curious that she would be so easily overtaken and running for help. And you are right that someone would have the advantage of high ground on us if we went through there." He paused, glancing at the valley and the surrounding area. "However, I do not see any easy way for us to go around that valley. Also, I would not like to leave this trap for anyone else passing this way. I'd prefer to spring it, if everyone is willing."

Aedan looked to each of them in turn, and they all nodded in response. "Excellent. Let's go before she gets suspicious."

They started after the woman, Aedan at point again, with Alistair and Ayla right behind him. Wynne and Leliana brought up the rear. They hurried to catch up to the woman, and the closer they got, the more tense Alistair became, though he tried to control his reaction. They were right behind the woman now, and it wouldn't do if she noticed him already wanting to draw his sword.

Finally, they came through the opening to the valley, and saw a ruin of wagons and slaughtered oxen ahead of them, spread throughout the area. The woman kept running toward a heavily armed elf with blond hair that skimmed his shoulders, and a large black tattoo running along the left side of his face. She slowed as she approached him, and stopped next to him. He stepped slowly forward, staring fixedly at them before gesturing with his hand.

Warriors appeared from behind the wagons, and archers from the rocks on the cliffs alongside the valley. Alistair, who had stopped alongside the others at the entrance to the valley, heard the sound of creaking timber and looked up at the same time Ayla and Aedan did, seeing a large tree trunk falling towards them. The party all leapt out of the way, which only brought them further into the valley. They all drew their weapons and faced the elf and the woman.

"The Grey Wardens die here!" the elf shouted as he drew the two blades he wore and started forward. The mage was readying a lightning spell at the same time.

"Alistair!" Aedan yelled, nodding towards the mage as he charged forwards as well.

"Leave the elf to me!" Ayla's eyes were dancing with excitement as she raced forward to meet the elf. Aedan nodded briefly, skirting around the clash of blades towards the other warriors who'd come out from the wagons.

Alistair had readied his smite, and neutralized the mage woman just as she was about to shoot a bolt of lightning at him. He'd moved toward her as he did so, dodging arrows that were raining down from the cliffs, and ran the woman through as he reached her. She stared up at him in mute shock for a moment, the look of triumph she'd worn when the trap sprung completely gone now. He finished her with another stroke and moved on to one of the warriors, meeting an axe blade with his shield.

Behind him, Leliana and Wynne were aiming arrows and spells at the archers along the cliffs; a few had already fallen to them. Wynne also cast defensive spells and healing magic at Alistair and the others between her offensive spells. Aedan had already dispatched the first warrior he'd come across, and was moving to a second. Alistair did his best to ignore the rapid clang of swords behind him that came from Ayla and the elf, and was able after a brief battle to defeat the axe-wielder.

Between himself, Aedan, Leliana and Wynne, the supporting fighters and archers were fairly quickly defeated. Once the initial ones on the ground had been taken care of, Leliana had led them up onto the cliffs, disarming traps along the way, to take care of the remaining archers they'd failed to reach. Once all the other fighters had been defeated, they returned to the valley floor, where Ayla and the elf were still fighting.

Alistair started forward to help her, but Aedan stuck out an arm and held him back. "What are you doing?" Alistair demanded in shock, turning to look at him.

Aedan met his gaze calmly, then nodded toward the battle. "Does it look like she's in distress or needs your help? Or that you would be able to get in there to offer it?"

Alistair looked back at the fight. Now that he looked more closely, he noticed that Ayla didn't look concerned at all; in fact, she looked like she was enjoying herself. She was smiling as she spun and danced and wove her way through complicated maneuvers which the elf had no trouble matching. As he glanced at the elf, he saw to his surprise that he wore a matching smile across his face. And Aedan was right; both of them were moving with incredible speed as they fought. Alistair would likely only be a hindrance if he tried to step in now.

He sighed, letting his sword drop, though he didn't put it away. "Fine. But if it starts to look like she's in trouble . . ."

Aedan grinned and shook his head. "Not to worry, Alistair. I would not stop you if I was actually concerned that she would lose."

Shortly after he said that, the elf made a mistake, overreaching with one of his swords. Ayla spun out of the way, and kicking his leg out from under him, clocked the elf on the back of the head with a sword pommel. He crumpled to the ground with a groan.

Leliana reached the two of them before anyone else, even Alistair, and promptly proceeded to tie up the unconscious elf with rope she'd produced from her pack.

Alistair, after glancing at Ayla to reassure himself she was okay, stopped by Leliana along with everyone else. "Um, do you mind if I ask what you think you're doing with him, Leliana? Why aren't we killing him?"

Leliana finished securing the ropes and efficiently stripped the elf of weapons, including removing daggers from places Alistair would never have thought to look, before straightening up. "Why, we must interrogate him, of course. It is obvious he knows who you and Aedan are, and was here specifically to assassinate the two of you. We should find out who hired him and what his plans were."

"Well, it's fairly obvious who most likely hired him," Aedan said dryly, "but I agree it would be a good idea to question him further."

As Ayla came up next to him, sheathing her swords, Alistair studied her more closely. She didn't appear to be at all wounded, to his relief; in fact, her eyes were still gleaming with excitement and her whole face was glowing. "Are you all right?" he asked her softly, feeling the flash of heat in his body when she turned the full force of her eyes on him.

She grinned widely, making the heat flare hotter as she stopped mere inches away. "Never better. It's been a long time since I've had such an enjoyable fight."

The elf groaned and stirred at that moment, likely due to the water Leliana had just splashed on his face. They all turned to look at him as he stirred and lifted his head. "Mmm . . . what? I . . . oh. I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven't killed me yet." He spoke with a pronounced accent that Alistair didn't recognize, but then, he'd never really met anyone from outside of Ferelden until recently.

Aedan stood above the elf, arms crossed, staring down at him impassively. "That could easily be changed, but I have some questions. Starting with who you are and why you are after us."

The elf smiled and nodded from his uncomfortable position on the ground, hands tied behind his back and feet tied together. His eyes quickly scanned over the entire group, lingering longest on Ayla, to Alistair's discomfort, before landing back on Aedan. "Ah! So I'm to be interrogated? Let me save you some time. My name is Zevran. Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have failed at, sadly."

Aedan's lips twitched. Alistair was disappointed to see growing amusement in his eyes; it didn't bode well for his hope that they would get rid of the elf. "Well, not so sadly for us. Who hired you to kill us?"

The elf tilted his head, as though trying to remember. "A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was? Yes, that's it."

Alistair sighed. He hadn't really expected otherwise; Loghain seemed to be behind everything bad in his life as of late. He'd even go so far as to hire an Antivan Crow, of all things! He exchanged glances with Aedan, noticing the complete lack of surprise on his face as well. "Of course it was him." Aedan looked at the elf with consideration. "Does that mean you're loyal to Loghain?"

Zevran shrugged as best he could with both hands tied. "I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine. You threaten his power, yes? Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service."

Ayla took a step forward from Alistair's side. He looked over at her in alarm. _No, no, what is she doing?_ She was looking at the elf with both interest and amusement, sending sharp pangs of jealousy through him. "What do you plan to do now that you've failed that service? Because it would really be a shame to kill such a challenging opponent – at least while you're unable to fight back."

Zevran grinned widely in reply, his eyes sweeping over Ayla again in a way that Alistair did not like. "I could not agree more!"

Alistair snorted, scowling down at him. "Of course you agree. It means you won't die right away." There was a part of him – a rapidly growing part – that really wanted the elf to die, and wasn't interested in being merciful.

"Oh no," Zevran protested, shaking his head. "It is not just that. Of course I would like to live, but were our situations reversed, I would be equally loath to bring our fight to such an . . . _unsatisfying_ ending. Or to rid the world of the beauty and talents of such a deadly sex goddess." He winked at Ayla as he finished the last statement.

Alistair actually felt a growl escape him, which was a little shocking to him as he didn't think he'd ever been that mad before, but he hadn't been able to help it when he'd seen that Ayla wasn't offended, but _smiling._ When she heard the growl, though, she touched his arm gently and shook her head at him. Though he wasn't sure why, the gesture succeeded in calming him down.

"If we could get back on topic now," Aedan said dryly, "might you answer the question as to what you plan to do about this 'service' of yours now?"

Zevran shrugged again, transferring his attention back to Aedan. "Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows. And between the Crows and myself. As for us, well, that remains to be seen, does it not?"

Aedan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why exactly are you telling us all this so easily?"

"Why not? I wasn't paid for silence." Zevran laughed. "Not that I offered it for sale, precisely."

Aedan paced back and forth for a minute, as though trying to come to a decision. Alistair watched him, growing more concerned about what he would do by the minute. Aedan stopped in front of Zevran again. "Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?"

The elf smiled slowly. "Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further."

Aedan frowned before nodding once, abruptly. "I'm listening. Make it quick."

"Well, here's the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause." No, he _really _didn't like where this was going, Alistair thought, before Zevran finished, "So let me serve you, instead."

What was even worse that Aedan actually looked to be _considering _Zevran's offer when he asked, "And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?"

Zevran was watching Aedan closely now, as though knowing his freedom was close at hand, as he explained, "To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I've paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you."

"Won't they come after you?" Aedan demanded, arms crossed as he seemed to weigh everything. He was looking as though he'd actually believed what the elf had said, and Alistair noticed a brief glance between him and Ayla, with her nodding before his attention returned to the elf.

Zevran shrugged again, seemingly unconcerned. "Possibly. I happen to know their wily ways, however. I can protect myself, as well as you. Not that you seem to need much help." He cast an admiring look at Ayla which almost caused Alistair to growl again. The only reason he did not was that Ayla had looped her arm through his, which was making him feel more than a little smug. "Besides your own obvious skills, it appears that you have skilled friends, as well. And if not . . . well, it's not as if I had many alternatives to start with, is it?"

"All right," Aedan said slowly. "So if you were to offer me your services, why precisely would I want them? As you have pointed out, we are quite skilled ourselves."

"Why? Because I am skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more . . . sophisticated . . . now that my attempts have failed. I could also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed?" With this last offer, he leered at Ayla, and Alistair took a step forward, fury blazing through his veins, causing Ayla to pull him back. And once again, she didn't look offended! "Fend off unwanted suitors?" he continued, now looking Alistair specifically in the eye. Unable to think of an adequate response, Alistair merely glared his hatred at him, causing the elf to smirk and finish, "No?"

Aedan shook his head, back to looking amused again. "While I don't believe you really helped your case with those last few, I believe I will accept your offer."

"What?!" Alistair squawked, finding his tongue at last. Bad enough they weren't killing him, now they were inviting him along?! "You're taking the assassin with us now? Does that really seem like a good idea?"

"Don't worry about it," Aedan waved off Alistair's concerns. "We need as much help as we can get, and you saw him fight. We could use him."

"But –" Alistair began, but Ayla squeezed his arm, interrupting him. "I think we can trust him. We should at least give him a chance to prove himself. If he betrays us, _then_ we can kill him." She cast a dazzling smile at him, which caused his brain to go a little mushy.

Alistair sighed wearily. As much he didn't like it, he did trust Aedan and Ayla to make the right decision. "Hmmm. All right, all right, I see your point. Still," he added, determined to get the last word in, "if there was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello."

Leliana used one of her daggers to cut Zevran's ropes, and helped him to his feet, beaming at him. "Welcome, Zevran. Having an Antivan Crow join us sounds like a fine plan."

"Oh?" Standing face-to-face with her, Zevran gave her a longer once-over then he had previously. "You are another companion-to-be, then? I wasn't aware so much loveliness existed amongst adventurers, surely."

Leliana frowned, seeming not to find his flirtations as amusing as Ayla had. "Or maybe not," she said curtly, moving away.

Zevran shrugged and stepped over to Aedan, placing his hand over his heart and bowing low. "I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation . . . this I swear."

"Let's hope you can keep your word." Aedan turned to Leliana. "Why don't you give him back his weapons? If he is to travel with us the rest of the way, he won't be of any use if he can't help us in a fight."

Leliana raised her eyebrows doubtfully, but she nodded before returning Zevran his collection of daggers and the two longswords he'd wielded in his fight against Ayla. The elf quickly re-armed himself.

"I'll have you take point, as well," Aedan gestured to the opposite side of the valley, which was the only way they had to leave now. "I'd rather have you where I can see you, in case you start trouble." He glared sternly at Zevran. "Make no mistake, just because I did not kill you this time, does not mean I will hesitate if you give me a reason to doubt you. This is your one and only chance."

"Indeed, I would expect nothing else!" the elf exclaimed as he headed to the front of the group. "Though I don't suppose your lovely mage friend might consider healing my wounds?"

"I will not," Wynne sniffed, crossing her arms. "You have at most a headache, I'm sure, and maybe you'll learn your lesson if you have to suffer through it."

"Ah, so harsh! But you are right, of course." Zevran swept her a bow before making his way to the front of the group. He began to lead them out of the valley, Aedan shaking his head as he fell in a few steps behind the elf.

Alistair followed, Ayla close by his side again, and Wynne and Leliana took up the rear. "I still don't think this is a good idea," Alistair murmured when he was sure there was enough distance between the elf and the two of them.

Ayla turned to look up at him, smiling slyly. "Are you sure it's not just because you're jealous?"

"What?! I am not!" Alistair spluttered. When she merely raised her eyebrows at him, he conceded, "All right, maybe I am a little. But that's not the point. The point is, he's an assassin who tried to kill us. How can we possibly trust him?"

She shook her head as she smiled reassuringly at him. "Let me start off by saying you don't need to be jealous. Just because I find his attempts at flirtation more amusing than offensive, does not mean I am attracted to him. But also, I don't believe he was really trying to kill us."

Alistair looked down at her in shock. "What do you mean? He ambushed and attacked us!"

She nodded. "Yes, but any skilled assassin would make use of any weapon to get the job done, including poison. He didn't." She pulled up the bottom of her skirted armor to show a gash across her thigh. "If he had, I would have been dead already."

Alistair stopped dead, worry spilling through him at the sight of the blood on her thigh, even as logic told him the wound wasn't bad. "Why didn't you have Wynne heal that? How could you let him hit you if you thought his swords were poisoned?"

Ayla rolled her eyes as she let the skirt drop before tugging on his arm to get him moving again, waving away Wynne who had started forward to heal her. "As flattered as I am by your estimation of my skills, I didn't _let_ him do anything. He got a blow in, fair and square. But he has a matching wound on his leg, so we're even. It's nothing but a scratch, not even worth bothering Wynne with. The point is, though, that even a scratch would have been enough if he'd poisoned his blade."

Alistair sighed, trying to calm himself down. As if he didn't have enough reason to worry about her fighting, now he was imagining what would happen if she was hit with a poisoned blade. "So maybe he just forgot, or maybe he's not that good of an assassin. It doesn't mean he wasn't trying to kill us."

Ayla shook her head. "I don't know for sure, of course, but I imagine by the way he spoke of those Crows that they're a fairly well-known assassin order, are they not?"

"Well, yes," Alistair admitted. "They're famous throughout Thedas as being the best assassin's guild. There's even talk that they run all of Antiva."

"So it's unlikely he'd be such a poor assassin that he'd forget to use poison. Besides that, you saw how skilled he was when he was fighting me, right?" When he nodded reluctantly, she continued, "But he made a very simple and obvious mistake that allowed me to knock him out. Otherwise, I cannot say for sure who would have won that battle."

Alistair frowned doubtfully. "So what are you saying? That he attacked us without any intention of killing us? How would he know that we would let him live? Even I didn't think we would have."

Ayla shrugged, watching Zevran as he walked at the head of the group. "I don't think he did know. It's possible he wanted to escape the Crows so badly that he didn't much care how it happened."

He didn't want to feel sympathy for the elf, but it seemed to be happening anyway. He wanted to feel nothing but dislike for Zevran, who had dared to flirt with Ayla – _his_ Ayla. But unfortunately, he was starting to feel twinges of sympathy as he realized what she meant. "You think he would rather have been killed by us than stay with the Crows?"

"There are some things that are more frightening to a person than their own death," Ayla said quietly, her normally bright eyes shadowed.

He knew exactly what she meant. He would rather have died at Ostagar than lost Duncan, and the thought of losing her was becoming far more frightening than the thought of himself dying on the battlefield. With that thought in mind, he pulled her a little tighter to his side. If Zevran really was going to fight with them, that meant one more pair of swords that might keep Ayla from danger. "All right, I'll give him a chance. But if he betrays us . . ."

"Then he's dead," Ayla said simply. Casting a quick glance backwards and forwards to make sure that none of the others were nearby, she whispered to him, "Tonight at camp, you should come find me. I'll give you that reward."

Alistair went hard almost instantly, at the same time as he blushed. Did she mean what he thought she meant? He wasn't sure how far he was ready to go, but surely it wouldn't hurt to find out what she meant. "A-as you wish, my lady," he blurted out, just barely managing to keep his voice low.

She smiled at him and winked, and Alistair wished fervently that it was night time already. He looked away from her, trying to focus on the road ahead, and noticed Zevran glancing back at the two of them and winking. He scowled. He might be willing to give Zevran a chance, but he didn't think he could bring himself to trust or like the elf anytime soon. He wasn't quite sure whether he was more worried about the fact that the elf was an assassin, or that he clearly desired Ayla. But if he had anything to say about it, Zevran was not getting anywhere near her. He would make sure that the elf knew that if he ever tried flirting with Ayla again.


End file.
